


The Heir

by foux_dogue



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Slow Build, Strong Female Characters, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-07-28 21:57:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7658269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foux_dogue/pseuds/foux_dogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After disappearing without a trace seven years earlier, Rin returns to Kagome's village with an unusual entourage and a fearsome new look. Desperate but determined, she relates her remarkable story of struggle, sacrifice, heartbreak, and redemption to Kagome. With the mystery of the younger woman and her relationship with the solemn Sesshoumaru revealed, Kagome is compelled to make her own sacrifice to protect something dear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any character original to Rumiko Takahashi et. al; all rights reserved.

Stirring with a yawn, Kagome woke to enjoy a rare glimpse of her household suspended in peaceful slumber. She watched as a cloud of dust motes twinkled in the grey morning light filtering through the slats of the shuttered windows. Her eyes tracked them as they slowly swept through the single room, passing over the heads of her children before disappearing in the shadows. She had become accustomed to the noise that usually filled the room-- the endless babble of her son, her husband’s griping, the gurgling of their meal pot to feed the bottomless hunger of her family and their endless parade of visitors. But now, interrupted only by the gentle lowing of the oxen making their way to the paddies near the village, Kagome could enjoy surveying her small family in peace.

Her children slept with their foreheads nearly pressed together, conniving together now as much as they did in their waking hours. The younger boy still slept with his thumb in his mouth while his older sister frowned in her sleep, a charming caricature of his mischievous spirit and her opposing adolescent seriousness.   

 _Five and eight years old_ , she mused as she sat up at the waist, careful not to disturb the man asleep beside her. Five and eight years old and already miming adulthood, which in this village was so quickly approaching. A farmer’s daughter had recently been married to her neighbor’s son and she couldn’t have been older than fourteen. Not even a figment of her parents’ imagination when Kagome herself had first arrived those fifteen years ago. Three thoughts blundered through her head as she reached for a thin robe folded neatly at her bedside— _This family won’t be following all of the standards of this era; Can I truly be getting that old?;_ and _I suppose I shouldn’t be one to talk…_

She stood, cinching the robe tight with the sash at her waist as she considered the sleeping form of her husband. She had been only fifteen herself when she had met Inuyasha and yet now they had fallen into that pleasant monotony of a partnership that had, with the years between them, surpassed all novelty. She marveled at how abrasive their courtship had been, sandwiched between all of the hardship and violence of that time, and at how he had been such a stranger to her then. She now knew him more intimately than she knew her own self, a sentiment she had always attributed more to grey-haired couples and fairy tales. To be honest Inuyasha was still very much in the early chapters of his life and had been characteristically slow to mature, but after two births and the unhappy discovery of fledgling wrinkles at the corners of her eyes Kagome felt she at least deserved the mantle of a wiser and more experienced woman. One that certainly wouldn’t allow her own daughter to marry before she’d had the chance to put away her dolls.

 _Well_ … Dolls were beyond Mizuho’s general forte, Kagome supposed. Her daughter had inherited the more somber nature of her father’s pedigree and was often a silent vassal trailing the young Akihiro in his noisy exploit around the village. Some days they looked like twins, both tall and lanky with sweet faces and dark hair, but their growing personalities were so very different. 

Kagome quietly padded to the hearth at the center of the room and prodded the glowing embers awake. She dipped a smooth-worn ladle into the bucket of water at her side and spooned the contents into a blackened kettle swinging above the growing flames. She watched as the surface of the water sloshed against the wood of the bucket, circling for a moment and casting off elongated reflections of the room around her. She lost herself in meditative thought as the water stilled.

The children had inherited so much from their parents and so little at the same time. They could have been mistaken for the children of any number of families in the village and for that Kagome was both relieved and, secretly, unhappy. Nothing marked Mizuho and Akihiro for Inuyasha’s children except for the love that they shared in equal measure, and although Inuyasha was quick to insist how lucky they were to not bear any youkai trademarks Kagome herself missed the exotic beauty that her husband carried in the faces of her children. She often wondered if her bully genetics were all it had taken to close the chapter of his wild lineage, if one of the forgettable faces of her long-lost classmates had been a distant grandchild.  

“Hey,” a gruff voice greeted her in a hushed whisper. She listened as the floorboard creaked under Inuyasha’s approach and as he sunk into a crouch at her side. Kagome cocked her head to the side in greeting while keeping her sleepy eyes on the tarnished lid of the kettle, resting her cheek against Inuyasha’s bare shoulder as he brushed his own cheek against the crown of her head.

“You are awake early.” He observed, sitting down cross-legged as he reached for a small tin of tea leaves on the far side of the hearth. It had been one of the rare nights when he had decided to sleep and she had a suspicion that he felt put off that she had been awake before him. She couldn’t help but smile slightly—everything was a competition for Inuyasha.

“I must have heard something in my sleep that woke me up. Anyway, there’s so much to do today, I figured it would be a good idea to get an early start.”

“You don’t run an inn,” Inuyasha grumbled, absentmindedly turning the tin around in his broad hands. “I don’t know why you always get so carried away when they come to visit.” Kagome continued to wear her smile, knowing that Inuyasha’s words translated into a concern that she was overworking herself.

“We haven’t seen Shippou in years! And I know he is so excited to visit.” The kitsune had been writing to her each month since he had left on his journey to enter adulthood—or, given how he aged, young adulthood-- on his own terms. He was constantly updating her on his travels in his crooked penmanship and she recounted the going-ons of the village and her children in good measure. His last five letters had detailed, with growing excitement and a more hurried calligraphy, how he was headed back in the direction of the village and if it weren’t too much of a trouble, if she weren’t to mind terribly, how wonderful it would be to visit. She had invited Sango and Miroku as well, who were a days’ walk away at the slayer’s village, and was honestly thrilled to be able to have all of her dear friends together again.

“I just want everything to be nice.” She turned to him finally, shooting him a broader smile that she knew would win the argument. He gave her his own half-hearted smile in return, which truly was closer to a grimace, and passed her the tea tin.

“Fine. But remember to warn everyone that they are coming. Between all of Miroku’s kids and whatever Shippou looks like anymore, they’ll either think we’ve become an orphanage or a circus.” Kagome rolled her eyes, carefully plucking the kettle from its stand and pouring an even-handed serving into an earthenware mug. She released a pinch of tea leaves into the steaming cup, watching them unfurl before handing it to the sulking man with the beginnings of a glower in her eyes.

“Just be nice.”  

“I’m always nice!” Even Kagome wasn’t too fond of Inuyasha to believe that that was true.

\---

By the time the sun had climbed to high noon Kagome had, with the involuntary assistance of her children, swept and scrubbed the hut clean and begun the roasts and bouillons that would form the base of their meal for the evening. To his credit Inuyasha had helped with bullying the children into a relative level of focus to their tasks, and with some bravado had cobbled together a long table to accommodate their large party in the yard. Kagome herself was humming with a growing joy in anticipation of her friends’ arrival, and as the cicadas began to cricket with the afternoon heat she set upon scrubbing and tidying her own children. They sat under the shadow of a tree, enjoying the breeze of an otherwise sweltering day as she pulled a comb through the unruly hair of her son.

“Ow!” He whined, his lips pulled up in a pout as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Stop! That hurts! Mama!”

“Don’t be a baby.” Kagome grumbled, grabbing a lock of matted hair and setting upon it with fervor. Mizuho watched from a step away, sitting on the gnarled arm of the tree’s roots and giggling at the fate of her squirming brother. She had already dressed herself neatly and had endured her mother’s ministrations without protest, her dark hair shining in two neat buns. 

“Kagome-chan!” Kagome peeked up from her son’s red scalp to see Sango’s waving form at the crest of a nearby hill, trailed by her large brood of children and her purple-cloaked companion. Kagome leapt up from her crouch with a cry, swinging her arm wildly in response.

“Sango-chan! Miroku-sama!” She cried with glee, gathering her children’s hands in her own before trotting forward to meet the group waiting for them. Akihiro shot his sister a grimace from under his half-tamed bangs and she repeated the expression. Another long dinner with strangers, inevitable pets and pinches… They shared an unspoken lamentation that they’d never have another peaceful moment again.

\---

After the children of both parties had been properly presented, the reunited friends meandered around the bubbling pots and crackling pans set in the open clearing in front of the home. Kagome flourished in the middle of the din, dropping dough into a shallow pan of oil with one hand and patting the head of one of Sango’s curious sons with the other.  

“When do you think he will arrive?” Sango queried, plucking a fried dumpling from a pile at her elbow and proffering it to a giggling toddler before shooing her away. “It is so hot out, I wouldn’t be surprised if he has slowed his pace.”

“I doubt it.” Kagome laughed in response, wiping her hands as she turned to face her dear friend. “You should have read some of his letters. I know it’s important for Shippou to find his own way but I’m afraid he’s a bit lonely traveling by himself.”

“I didn’t know he could write,” was Sango’s response, raising her eyebrows in reaction to Kagome’s cry of disapproval. “Not that he’s not intelligent!” Sango quickly added, holding her hands up in defense. “He’s just… I- he’s more of a visual communicator.”

“In any case,” Kagome continued, leaning against the rough edge of the table. “I’m so happy we’re all together again. I wish Kouga-kun and Ayame-chan, and little Rin and all the rest were all here as well, but you can only imagine how much I’ve been looking forward to this.” Sango smiled back at Kagome, charmed that her good nature remained even now that she had resigned herself to a quieter life and the unending demands of motherhood.

“Yes, it’s so hard to find the time even with only a day’s worth of travel between us, but I am so glad you arranged it. I’ve left everything to Kohaku at the village so we will be happy to stay a few days, if you’d like. It would be good for all of the children to—oh!” Sango’s head snapped up slightly as she stared out towards the horizon. “There! Is that Shippou?” She pointed as Kagome spun around to see, and a crack of joyful laughter confirmed it.

“Yes! Look how tall he is! And how fast he’s moving. I told you he was excited!” Kagome turned to beckon Inuyasha to gather everyone for a proper welcome, but was startled to find him already at her side. Her brow furrowed slightly as she noticed the tension tightening his shoulders.  

“Something is…” he began, his eyes narrowing as he watched Shippou approach, blue smoke billowing at the boy’s ankles. “… following him.” Inuyasha sprung forward, looking back over his shoulder to cry out for Kagome to usher the children together. She caught sight of movement behind Shippou’s outline and decided that Inuyasha’s caution was worthwhile. The two women quickly shooed the young children towards the open door of the hut, remaining even-keeled to keep their questions calm and at bay. Miroku joined his partner at the threshold of the door as Kagome trotted forward slightly, peering out to where Inuyasha had dashed with her palm shielding her eyes from the bright sun.

Inuyasha and Shippou had stopped moving and stood with their backs to her. She peered at the open space between their shoulders and noticed the advancing form of something large and, even from where she stood, noisy. Perhaps many things, she noted, as a cloud of dust began to rise above them. _Horses?_

With a spark of anxiety gurgling in the pit of her stomach, Kagome jogged forward towards the pair. She was still a miko and protector to the village, no matter how uneasy she felt about this unexpected visitor. She quickly closed the distance between them, her heart fluttering slightly to see the young man that Shippou had become, but the low growling coming from his throat stopped any immediate welcome. She came to a stop and, framed behind Inuyasha, stood bewildered at what she saw.

Before them a number of beasts came to a trot and then to a full stop, composing the front lines of an advancing horde stretching even further beyond in the rolling hills that surrounded the village. _No, a pack, and not beasts, but dogs. No, not dogs, but… inuyoukai._

They were small, or small at least in comparison to the only other member of their kind she’d met before, not much larger than horses. Otherwise they were a familiar sight with the same long muzzles, drooping ears and lithe bodies as their compatriot. Their thick fur and curling tails would have been charming if it wasn’t for their narrow bloodshot eyes and the long, smiling corners of their mouths that revealed dark purple gums, long fangs, and a thick dripping slobber. Their sides were heaving with exertion from their run and long inky tongues lolled out of some of their mouths, filling the air with the smell of wet dirt, sour fermentation, and a sharp copper stench of blood.   

Two of the beasts at the front of the pack slunk forward, beginning to pace in a line as they tossed their heads from side to side and snarled. Their long ears snapped against their skulls as they huffed, and Kagome could feel their hot damp breath even a number of paces away. Their eyes never left Inuyasha, who stood transfixed. She heard a growl rumbling deep in his chest as the two dogs continued what Kagome somehow knew was a show of disrespect.  She saw the muscles in Inuyasha’s back finally begin to tighten and braced herself for a confrontation when a sharp whistle cut through the air.

The youkai horde quieted and the ostentatious pair at the front sunk to their bellies, their ears pulled tight against their skulls in a show of submission. Just as quickly as it had arrived the pack split at the middle, exposing an open path of churned earth leading a far larger inuyoukai in her direction. Unlike most of the others this one had a crest on its forehead, a solid blue orb, and Kagome would have reasoned that it was the leader of the pack had she not seen a small black shape perched on the creature’s shoulders.

 _It’s just a mount,_ she thought in a mixture of confusion and concern. They hadn’t seen any credible sense of choreography in the efforts youkai had made to attack the village since Naraku’s fall. Most youkai had returned to their solitary nature when the Shikon no Tama had been eliminated, seeing no benefit in collaboration to simply range and pillage. But this was certainly a pack with a clear leader—and that made Kagome uneasy. She became distinctly aware that she was unarmed, and watched in that same moment as Inuyasha laid his hand against the hilt of his sword. 

The large beast was upon them before they could devise a plan. Kagome peeked over Inuyasha’s shoulder to get a better view of its rider. He was not much larger than she was but was a fearsome sight all the same. He was fully clothed in an articulated suit of armor made of a dark oxblood-colored material that was as shiny as the shellacked back of a beetle. A broad white fur sash framed his neck, the ends draped regally along the length of his shoulders like epaulettes. His face was hidden by an ornate helmet designed in the fashion of an ugly snarling dog head, complete with a peaked muzzle and sharp teeth which built out the grid of its mouth grate. The crown of the helmet had a slight flare to protect the wearer from the downward strike of a sword and had the shine of some insignia at the forehead, although she could not make it out from her position. What she could see was a long staff strapped to the man’s back which at its tip had a wicked-looking hook at one edge and, facing the in the opposite direction, a broad hatchet head. Some sort of bag was lashed flush to the front of his chest and she felt it was reasonable to assume that it hid another object that he'd like to use to kill her, if he had the chance. She heard a deeper and more urgent growl rumble out of Inuyasha’s throat and felt compelled to mimic him. _The children_.

The great dog sunk down on its haunches, laying its belly against the ground while keeping a cold glare focused on Inuyasha. Kagome cast a quick glance at Shippou but saw that he was equally stayed by the size of the horde and the peculiar circumstance of Inuyasha’s confrontation with other members of his own kind. It was clear they wouldn’t let the pack advance towards the village, but somehow they all knew Inuyasha had to be the one to determine how they’d greet them.

The armored man, now much closer to them, held his hands palm out in a signal of nonaggression. Kagome tensed to speak out when she recognized the shape of the insignia on the brow of his helmet, a rising shock spiking trough her veins, but a call from within the armor stopped her short.

“Kagome-chan,” a female voice greeted, sweet but strained from behind the jagged teeth of the helmet’s face plate. Inuyasha spun to catch Kagome’s eye, his face slack with surprise, and she could do nothing but stare back at him incredulously. Seeing that they made no attempt to advance, the figure smoothly detached the helmet from a seal at the nape of their neck and removed it. Kagome made a guttural sound as she looked up into the face of a young woman, beautiful but wet with sweat and ashen from what was either pain or exhaustion. A human woman with a face so familiar to her, although she was surprised to see the same crescent moon insignia from the helmet branded on the smooth skin of her forehead as well. A woman who was as much at home in the village as Kagome was and, she hoped, one that posed no threat to the children inside.

“Rin!”

\---  

Kagome hadn’t seen or heard from Rin since she had left the village after Mizuho’s birth. The ward had been seventeen then and had been living among them for years. She had trained with Kaede until the old woman’s death and with Kagome afterward, and they had all believed that she would help Kagome with the tasks of serving as both doctor and spiritual steward to the villagers. Looking back on it Kagome supposed that they should have involved Rin more in planning for her future, despite how logical the decision had seemed to be. Rin had always been fond of Kaede and unwaveringly kind to others but she had been insolent, in her own mild-mannered way, when it came to playing the caretaker roles that Kaede had undertaken for years. Moreover, she had been adamant to refuse the path of a miko, much to Kaede’s frustration. While it was an unspoken understanding that Kagome would be the primary priestess for the village, Kaede had been certain that Rin had a natural skill for the art. She had found it to be a personal failure to be unable to persuade Rin to undertake the mantle despite being an otherwise gracious and generally well-behaved young girl.    

Reflecting on it with the perspective she had now, however, Kagome knew that Rin would never have committed her life to a spiritual path. Much of the religious teachings underpinning the studies of a miko expounded on the evil nature of youkai and the necessity to remove their influence from the world, but the greatest evil that Rin had experienced had come from the hands of her fellow man. Kagome would never be able to share the admiration that Rin held for Sesshomaru, but she understood that Rin saw in him the same goodness that she loved in Inuyasha… in spite of or even because of their youkai heritage. So while she was not surprised that Rin had rejected the mantle of a priestess, nor was she startled when Rin had begun to fall into a more somber and quiet mood as she navigated through her teenage years, she was shocked to find Rin gone one morning not long after she had helped Kagome welcome Mizuho to the world. No note, no hint, nothing but a neat pile of everything Kagome had given her during those seven years left like a shrine to the past she had left behind.

Now, however, Rin had returned to the village. Kagome watched wordlessly as Rin dismounted, her armor clattering as her feet touched upon the ground. Dwarfed by the hounds surrounding her, and with her helmet tucked in the crook of her elbow, she suddenly looked small and burdened. This did not outshine the fact that she had obviously held dominance in the pack. The dogs were coiled tense and ready to strike out to protect her.  Kagome felt a cold sheen of sweat bead on her back. What was going on?

“I would like to speak with you.” Rin began, meeting Kagome’s eyes behind Inuyasha’s protective stance. “Alone.” Her tone was cold but Kagome saw something beseeching in her eyes and so, despite the sound of disapproval coming from Inuyasha she nodded and stepped forward. Rin dipped her head slightly in thanks and strode away from the pack, stopping sharply when the lead dog rose to its feet to signal that it wasn’t to follow. The dog huffed slightly but halted, instead shuddering before shrinking down to a humanoid form. As Kagome turned to follow Rin over to the very tree she’d groomed her children under earlier that day, she couldn’t help but smirk to watch Shippou redden as he considered the naked female form that the beast had assumed. The woman began to say something but Kagome’s focus was drawn to Rin, now close enough that she could hear her labored breathing.

“I apologize for coming here like this.” Rin said suddenly, quietly. “I know I left this village dishonorably and am in no position to request your hospitality, but I’m afraid I’ve come to ask too much of you again.”

Kagome looked over at the young woman, disquieted by the formality of her tone and the effort that it took for her to speak. She watched as Rin leaned against the tree as they arrived, feigning a casual pose as she braced her full weight against it.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.” Rin replied with a bitterness in her tone. She caught herself and looked at Kagome abashedly. “I’m sorry, I’m just… We’re exhausted.” She nodded at the milling pack which was, Kagome noted, at least a hundred strong. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Rin-chan, of course.” Kagome stuttered. She made a move to reach out to Rin but stopped herself, still uneasy despite history they shared.

“This is your home.” The look that Rin shot her made her breath stop for a moment, but again the younger woman quickly arched her brows in a sign of apology. Kagome sighed, trying to muster up the right words.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re safe here.” She managed. “What can we do to help?” She looked back over at the others and, after a moment’s pause, continued. “Who are they?”

In any other circumstance Kagome would have assumed the youkai were the things that she had to protect Rin against, but the warm look that Rin gave them quickly dispelled the thought.

“I have a lot to tell you.” Rin admitted, finally looking more familiar as she shot Kagome a somewhat embarrassed smile. “What is important now is that I continue to appear…” She searched for the right words. “They are… I don’t want them to be afraid.”  She nodded back at the pack before catching Kagome’s eyes again. “A scared dog is dangerous. I don’t want them putting themselves in danger because they feel like they have to protect me.”

Kagome thought of all the times she’d inadvertently referenced what she knew about dogs to interact with Inuyasha, from the very first time she’d yelled “sit!” at him to all the quiet training and reinforcement she’d done in the years since. She blushed slightly, knowing that the comparison was disrespectful and even cruel, but was also certainly able to empathize with Rin’s point of view.

“So I’ll invite you to stay. As a sign of …respect.” She ventured. Rin nodded. “But Rin-chan, I… the villagers will be terrified of them.”

“They won’t hurt anyone.” Rin quickly insisted. “I’ll take care of it. Please, Kagome-chan. I-“

“That’s enough.” Kagome replied quickly, offering Rin a warm smile. “We have plenty of time to catch up. I understand enough for now. Let’s go.”

\---

Rin was good on her word. Following their quick discussion, the pair returned to the pack and, with a curt nod to the woman with the circle crest at her brow (who had since slipped into a simple kosode and maintained a bemused look at Shippou), the hoard hummed with movement. Without pause the towering dogs had shrunk to half their size and smaller. The two frontrunners loped to Rin’s side, their tails wagging as they bumped their long snouts against her hips, and although their cruel maws and red eyes still chilled Kagome’s gut they otherwise looked like any other faithful pair of hounds.   

“It may be a large hunting party,” Rin admitted to Kagome and the stupefied men, “but they will keep out from under foot and won’t bother the villagers.”

Kagome nodded in response before noting a fresh grimace on Rin’s grey face.

“Let’s go home,” the older woman offered, ignoring the frown digging itself deeper into her husband’s face. “You’ve come on the perfect day. I’m afraid our food might be cold now but we have plenty to share.” Inuyasha bristled under her cheerful tone and cast a sidelong glance at Shippou. The boy shrugged his shoulders in response, still keeping one eye on the slender female youkai who had trotted to Rin’s side.

“What are you doing?” Inuyasha growled as they turned to head back towards the heart of the village. Kagome sent him a sharp look in return.

“Something’s happened to her.” Kagome frowned at his incredulous look. “She’s family to us, Inuyasha. No matter how long it has been. We have to help her. She would do the same for us.”

“And all of them?” Inuyasha hissed, nodding his chin at the pack of dogs trailing at their heels.

“They won’t hurt anyone,” his wife replied simply, trusting Rin more than even she admittedly knew she should. “We’ll talk with her once we get back,” she added as a compromise, “to understand what exactly is going on.”

Kagome startled slightly as she remembered the presence of another youkai, turning to face Shippou. His face reddened slightly as he looked down to his clasped hands.

“Shippou-chan! I’m so happy you’re here!” She burbled happily, hugging him awkwardly around his shoulders as they walked. Her chin bumped against his chest—he had grown like a bamboo shoot and was just as thin. She felt a sense of pride in the handsome young man he had become.

“I’m sorry Kagome-sama I—“

“Don’t call me that!” Kagome blurted, feeling her face blush as well. “What is that for? I’m not an old maid.”

“K-Kagome-chan,” Shippou corrected, continuing to look miserable. “I tried to stop them. At first I thought they were following me, but I changed my course and they kept on heading this way.”

“Shippou! It’s alright!” She rested a reassuring hand against his arm. “I’m glad Rin has come to see us, but I’m even happier you’re here. Thank you for helping.”

“You were as useful as ever.” Inuyasha quipped.

“You weren’t much help either!” Shippou snarled back. “What, are you afraid of dogs?”

“You should be, you miser—“  
“Inuyasha!” Kagome snapped, fuming. The two men stopped in their tracks. “That’s enough!”

“Sorry, Kagome,” they chimed back in unison. She stomped ahead with a huff, bewildered at how quickly the dynamic between the two stubborn men had returned.

“What the hell,” was all that Inuyasha could muster, trying to piece together where his afternoon had gone.

\---

The children had quickly fallen in love with the handful of dogs that had followed them to the hut, chiefly Goro and Akio whom Rin had introduced as the pair that had been so keen to eat Inuyasha earlier. The majority of the pack had slunk away into the shadows of the nearby forest but the few that remained were now happily receiving the children’s endless pats, pets, and scratches. Inuyasha watched from the threshold of the hut, infuriated with the situation and ready to strike down any sign of aggression. Kagome’s plea to permit the behavior to sell the story that Rin had returned home with her faithful dogs had convinced him, begrudgingly, but she heard his huffs of frustration from inside the hut like the ticking of a clock.

Kagome stood with her back to the door, facing Rin and her female companion. They stared at each other awkwardly, the woman holding Rin steady at her elbow. Kagome cleared her throat and fiddled with a lock of hair at her ear as she tried to think of a way to spark their conversation, sneaking glances at Rin as she did.

The seven years that had passed since she had last seen Rin had stamped out the cherubic rosiness that her face had once held. She still looked young, as she couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, but her face had hardened and taken on a longer and more refined look.  Her skin was smooth and darkened from days out in the sun, the pale scar tissue of the brand at her forehead a pronounced white comma between her thin black brows. Her thick hair was cut short at her jaw, an unusual style for the age, and Kagome found it intriguing that the youkai woman at her side sported the same haircut.  She had a tiny scar bisecting the lines of her lower lip, a spot Kagome watched as Rin chewed lightly on her lip. An old habit Kagome remembered—she was nervous. The tiny movement humanized the strange creature standing before her, and emboldened Kagome to speak.

“Have you traveled far?” She began, lamely. All the same it seemed to break the spell. Rin lowered herself onto a flat bench at the edge of the room and leaned her back against the wall.

“Yes. We have been traveling for two weeks. We came from the west,” Rin replied, “far west.”

“Oh,” Kagome chirped in reply. “Were you, ah…” she groped for words, trying to avoid the absurd compulsion to ask Rin if she had been on vacation.

“I want to introduce you to someone.” Rin interjected. Kagome looked over at the stern face of the female youkai standing at Rin’s side. Shippou’s blushes had been well-served; she was indeed a gorgeous creature. Her almond eyes were sleek and captivating, smoldering above her high cheekbones and a mouth which held a steady natural pout. Her white hair shimmered even in the muted light of the hut and, despite the blunt style of her cut, framed her face in an alluring way. The blue dot at her forehead was the only interruption across her porcelain skin and her hemp kosode betrayed the shape of her long limbs and appealing curves. Kagome suddenly felt miserably frumpy and tried to forget an embarrassing compulsion to dislike the woman.

“Yes, of course, how do you do,” she began with a smile, bowing at the waist towards the woman. “My name is—“

“Kagome,” the woman interrupted. Her voice carried an unusual accent that rung in Kagome’s ears.  

“Y-yes.”

The woman stared at her, silent, and Kagome felt a bead of sweat building at the nape of her neck as she waited a moment for a response that clearly wasn’t going to be returned. _Rude._

“That is Yanmei.” Rin announced finally. The sharpness of her tone made the youkai lower her head and, with a quiet huff, she folded over in a very slight bow at Kagome. “But she isn’t who I’m talking about.”  

Rin moved to untie the satchel from her shoulders and Kagome was startled to hear a happy gurgle tinkle from within. The lumpy bag roiled in movement and, cradling it carefully in the crook of her elbow, Rin pulled away the corner of the fabric to reveal a tiny silver-haired child.

“Eh?” Inuyasha’s voice crackled through the air, high-pitched. Kagome felt a draft of wind as her husband trotted over to her side, the tip of his nose twitching. Kagome cooed out loud despite herself, instantly charmed by the infant and the tenderness with which Rin brushed its downy hair away from its face. The chubby baby was tiny, certainly no older than half a year. Like Rin it too had a crescent shape on its brow, although this one was a periwinkle blue.

“This is Masakage.” Rin said slowly without looking away from the babe. “My son.”

“Your son?” Inuyasha barked, gaining a protective growl in response from Yanmei. He sounded incredulous and Kagome knew why—she too had noticed the infant’s tiny pointed ears and startling gold eyes. He was obviously not a human, and while the clues to his father were becoming abundantly clear, he was no hanyou either.

“Yes,” Rin replied. She pursed her lips to continue but was stopped by a fresh wince which rippled across her face. Yanmei rested a hand on her shoulder, frowning, as Rin continued. “I will explain. I will tell you everything. But first I have come here to beg you that if I were to…” she trailed off for a moment, “to ask that if anything were to happen to me, that you would watch over my child. Not forever, just until it was safe for him to go home.”

“Rin-chan, we…” Kagome began, staring at the child with a mixed expression. _What did she mean?_

“Please,” Rin repeated, a tone of desperation in her voice. Yanmei stared at the pair with a stony disposition, clearly made miserable by the circumstances her liege found herself in. “Please, there is nowhere else for him to go. You are his family,” her eyes darted to Inuyasha, who looked away with a flustered face, “and you are my family too. I need to know if you can.”

“Rin-chan,” Kagome breathed, stepping forward and kneeling in front of Rin. She took her free hand in her own, ignoring the protective noise it called in response from Yanmei. “Inuyasha and I would do anything for you and your son.” She spoke slowly to emphasize each word. “Don’t question it again; we would and we will. But please, tell me what’s going on, help me understand.”  

Rin nodded, a look of relief rushing over her face. Kagome noticed the dark circles around her eyes for the first time as she allowed her fierce look to fade.

“I will tell you everything,” she reaffirmed.


	2. The Spring / The Orphan Girl

_The Spring_

“She’s lying,” Inuyasha growled under his breath as he and Kagome stood outside the threshold of their home. Rin and Yanmei were inside, left to a moment of privacy as they readied themselves for a trip to the hot spring to wash away the grime from their journey. Kagome watched her son stealthily feed a radish to one of Rin’s dogs, unsure of how to reply. She turned away to track the sun as it began to set behind a pink splash of clouds.

“I couldn’t smell her on that kid.” Inuyasha continued. “It isn’t hers. She’s delusional. It’s a _youkai_ ,” he hissed the final word, planting his hands at his waist in frustration.

“Stop it,” Kagome bit back. “Rin wouldn’t lie to us. She’s desperate. She loves the baby.”

“That doesn’t mean she didn’t steal it from one of her… pets,” Inuyasha continued, the uptick of his voice revealing that the idea made a great deal of sense. “Whatever it is, I am not going to babysit some random kid. She comes here after years, without any warning, and thinks she can just unload this brat now that he’s becoming inconvenient a—“

“Inuyasha!” Kagome snapped, barely able to maintain her whisper. She finally caught Inuyasha’s gaze with a burning stare. “Don’t be stupid! He’s obviously Sesshoumaru’s son.”

“Sesshoumaru!” Inuyasha barked, too loud. “Sesshoumaru,” he repeated more quietly, bringing his face inches from Kagome’s. “That’s crazy. We haven’t heard anything about Sesshomaru in ten years. He’s probably dead. And if he ever did get any unlucky bi— “ Kagome’s glare seemed to burn a hole between his eyes, “ _woman_ pregnant he’d bury her in the ground before he had to worry about a baby. Sesshoumaru… I don’t think he’s even capable of that sort of activity.”

Kagome rolled her eyes, rubbing the skin at her temple.  “Sometimes you are so ignorant, Inuyasha.”

“Ignorant! Nothing is as ignorant as saying that Sesshomaru would have a child with a human woman. With Rin! If anything he’s ordered her to take away some bastard he’s whelped by mistake and thinks it would be funny to saddle us with it.” Inuyasha spat out the final few words and stalked a number of paces away. The pair stood in a smoldering silence, both with their arms crossed tight across their chests.

The scene continued for a handful of uncomfortable minutes before being interrupted by Rin’s exit from the hut. Yanmei trailed close behind with the folded stack of clothes in her arms that Kagome had procured for the two women.

“Could you lead, Kagome-chan?” Rin asked, looking up from the sleeping infant she held in her arms. “I’m afraid I’ve forgotten the way.”

“Of course,” Kagome replied. With brief orders for her children to obey the bewildered Miroku and Sango, who had been watching the unfolding situation uncomfortably, the three women turned to head towards the forest. Inuyasha trailed behind, still fuming but unwilling to allow Kagome to go unaccompanied.

They walked in silence, the baby’s occasional cooing interrupting the crackling of the leaves beneath their feet and the muted calls of the birds from within the dense canopy of the forest. Dots of glittering blue flame signaled the way and cast long shadows throughout the wood, left by a thoughtful Shippou now that the sun had all but set. Kagome led the group along the winding path and tried to keep her mind from wandering back to the absurdity of the afternoon. _I’ll explain everything_ , Rin’s words echoed in her head.

The sound of panting pulled her gaze away from her feet. Kagome glanced to her side and caught sight of a ghostly figure weaving through the shadow of the trees. She peered deeper into the darkness and felt a fresh chill shudder down her spine as she recognized the forms of dozens of white dogs at their flanks. She could see their cloudy blue pupils flashing in the dim firelight and could smell the sourness of their breath just underneath the damp woody musk of decomposing leaves. They seemed to trot in unison, otherworldly, and made the tiny hairs on her neck stand on end. Gritting her teeth, she tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that it was, from a distance, impossible to distinguish between the beasts accompanying the group and hunting them.

“Here we are,” Kagome announced after another beat of silence. With a reedy whistle the fox fire from the path rushed forward and joined into a glowing cloud that crested just above the surface of the spring. Kagome heard the scrabbling of claws against bark as Inuyasha took a seat in the dark branches above their heads to play as lookout. Yanmei carefully set the bundle of clothes on top of a smooth stone near the edge of the spring and, with a nod at Rin, quietly stalked into the shadowy depths of the wood. Kagome stared at her feet, embarrassed again by the silence as Rin distracted herself with the little boy in her arms.

 _Why is this so hard?_ Kagome wrestled with her thoughts. The way that she and Inuyasha lived it was often years between visits with the friends who she held so dear. Although she had admittedly been hurt when Rin had first left, she had come to understand why the young woman had felt stunted and confined in the rural village. Underneath the self-consciousness that kept her stumbling over her words she felt the warm glow of joy that her friend had returned. But the mystery and, it seemed, the desperation of her visit made Kagome feel like an unwelcome guest in her own home.

“It is safe,” Yanmei’s voice brought Kagome back to the present. Rin nodded and visibly relaxed. Her traveling partner returned to her side and, with a look of affection, took the babe from her arms.

“Youkai rarely come to this village now,” Kagome began absentmindedly, flushing slightly at the absurdity of the claim when she remembered her audience. “I mean, it’s nothing like it used to be.” Rin, busying herself with unwrapping the infant from its swaddling, smiled a thin but warm smile at the other woman.

“I knew you and Inuyasha-kun would take good care of this place, protect it. I had forgotten just how beautiful it is here. We just have to be careful. Kagome-chan, please, come here,” Rin laughed lightly, waving Kagome over. “You know you can trust me, onee-san.” Kagome blushed slightly, feeling miserable that she couldn’t simply embrace the other woman and erase the time between them. She jogged over to Rin and plastered her best smile across her face.

“Of course, I’m sorry. I—“

“I’m afraid I cast quite a strange vision now, and I’ve ruined your reunion.” Rin interjected with an apologetic tone, waggling a finger caught in the infant’s chubby grip.  “I’m sorry for it all, truly, and I don’t expect us to… to fall back into the life we had before. But I am so happy to see you, Kagome-chan, I’ve thought about you and missed you every day.”

“Me too,” Kagome replied quickly, mustering the courage to lay a hand on Rin’s shoulder. “I want to hear everything about what’s happened since we… since we last were all together. And then I’ll tell you my stories as well. I’m so glad we can catch up!” The cheeriness of her tone seemed flat and superficial for the circumstance, but Rin smiled back all the same, her eyes warm.

“I can’t wait to hear them, Kagome-chan. But first, I’m afraid I truly need a bath.”

\---

Retreating to where she’d dropped her bag of washing things, Kagome tried not to stare as Yanmei helped Rin out of her armor. She busied herself with unpacking the soaps and washcloths she’d brought, peeking under her lashes at the pair when she dared. Masakage babbled and clapped a few paces away, propped up against the ribcage of a long-limbed dog that had appeared from the underbrush a few minutes earlier. The youkai nuzzled the baby upright as he tried to roll away. Masakage pulled at the dog’s lips in rebellion, making wet noises as he tugged on the poor creature’s face. The youkai accepted the ministrations without protest; it would have been a charming scene if not for the dog's cruel fangs that flashed in the firelight, revealed by the infant’s tiny fingers.

“I’ll fix this tonight,” Yanmei commented as she fingered a broken tile at Rin’s shoulder. The voice broke Kagome’s concentration on the little boy and his unlikely companion.

“Thank you, Mei-chan,” was Rin’s quiet reply as the taller woman moved to undo a series of tiny clasps that ran down her spine. Each clasp opened with a crisp click and as the suit loosened the thousands of small plates that made up the armor swiveled on invisible hinges with a soft grating sound. It was eerie to see the suit without its helmet, as if Kagome were looking upon the beheaded body of a monster with the ghostly face of a woman left behind.

Rin took a deep breath as the back of her suit swung open. Yanmei moved to her arms next, her nimble fingers quickly unfastening the sleeves of the suit to reveal Rin’s strong bare arms. Kagome frowned as she noticed dark dried streaks of blood running from Rin’s wrists to her elbows, but neither woman made a move to address them.

With each piece of armor that was plucked away Kagome saw that the thin body of her friend had been replaced by ropes of muscles and taut curves. She was reminded of the scene in the forest just moments before; the smooth pull of flesh under the dog’s silky coat as it slunk past her, each part of its body drawn like a bowstring trembling to release. Flushing, Kagome drew her gaze away and pulled at the belt of her red and white miko’s kimono.  It felt soft and flimsy as it threaded through her fingers. She became painfully conscious of the soft pillows of flesh that had settled on her hips, stomach, her thighs after she had given birth to Akihiro. Her cheeks flamed as she kicked off her sandals, pausing to stub her toes in the dirt; _I am being ridiculous._

She heard a gentle splash and a satisfied sigh as Rin waded into the spring. Feeling foolish as she stood at the bank, half-dressed and covering her chest in a chaste hug, Kagome quickly stepped out of her clothes and strode into the steaming water. She felt a wave of relief as she stepped deeper into the pool, kneeling so that the water lapped at her chin as she swam to Rin’s side.

“Here,” Kagome offered, holding out a rough cloth and a wet bar of soap to the other woman.

“Thank you, onee-san” Rin replied warmly, taking the offerings. She lathered the soap and began to rub at her arms. Kagome was relieved to see that her forearms were free of any cuts, but felt her stomach sour as the blood washed away in dark swirls on the water’s soapy surface. _Someone else’s blood_. She thought of the staff and blade that had been at Rin’s back earlier, now carefully laid beside her armor at the spring bank, and saw an image of the dark armored figure she’d seen that afternoon cutting through its foes. It had been a long time since she had seen a proper battle. This clearly wasn’t the case for Rin.

“Are you hurt?” Kagome piped up, remembering the pained expression that had been flitting across her face all afternoon. As if in answer Rin stood, exposing her body to the waist as she continued to lather away the dirt and sweat that covered her. Kagome’s eyes locked on a long pink cut between the white flesh of her breasts, but even in the blue shadows of the foxfire she could see that it was a long-healed scar.   

“I’m in one piece,” Rin replied with a reassuring look, sinking back down into the water. She disappeared for a moment as she submerged herself, reappering with another noise of satisfaction as water droplets beaded off her cropped hair. The tips of her toes revealed themselves as she rubbed at her long legs and, having finally scrubbed herself clean, she leaned back against a warm rock that jutted out from the center of the pool.

“I want to tell you why I’m here,” Rin began, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the heat of the water against her sore body. “I hope you don’t mind that it is a long story. I think,” he eyes opened with the word, and she stared into Kagome’s own. “I think it’s important for you to know. I need for you to understand,” she admitted, her eyes now darting over to Masakage, “for his sake.”

“Of course I want to know,” Kagome replied and then confided, “To be honest I really need to know what the hell is going on.” Rin smiled, nodded, and began her story.

\---

_The Orphan Girl_

Gravel crunched against Rin’s knees as she kneeled behind the hut and tried desperately to settle her nerves. She heard Mizuho wail from inside and took a deep breath, the autumn air dry and steely in her throat. _Now or never,_ she thought grimly, her heart pounding. She peeked around the corner of the building, her eyes still adjusting to the cold dim light of the moon, and was relieved to find that Inuyasha had left his post to enter the hut and soothe the noisy newborn. She stood quickly and with stiff strides trotted away from the home. Her pace quickened as she approached the edge of the forest and, breaking into the shadows of its boughs, she lurched into a harried run with tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.  

She had never planned to grow old in the village but neither had she predicted her exit would have been like this. For years she had dreamed of her liege lord returning, much like he had once done, like clockwork; every three weeks and a day. _You’re a woman full-grown_ , he’d say, promising a thousand things at once with only a handful of words, _and if you’d like to return to me, come now._ She’d nod and, as he would turn to walk away, she’d bravely say good-bye to Kagome and Inuyasha. They’d all known she was a temporary fixture in this place, this safe-haven for her to grow and develop into an adult who could take care of herself and contribute to Sesshoumaru’s own aims. Like Jaken, she supposed, but more useful.  _Goodbye, onee-san._

Instead, on one of those three-weeks-and-a-days Sesshoumaru hadn’t returned. Another gap had cycled by, and then another, and soon enough Rin had forgotten the patterns on his clothes and began to doubt the image of his face she remembered. She had rallied against a thousand questions of if he had been killed, of what made her inferior to his company, of what she had done wrong; but she could find no answer as hard as she reflected on their years together. Kagome offered nothing but a sad smile when asked for her opinion which made Rin burn with shame.

So Rin had turned inwards on herself, committing to support Kaede in her final years and to learn the skills she had been avoiding. She mended the villagers when they fell off their horse or were bitten by a snake, and daydreamed through Kaede’s lessons. At fifteen she spurned a would-be admirer and then another, and although she knew Kagome supported her she could tell the older woman was growing concerned. Rin made no friends and grew quieter in her company by the month. She resigned herself to the idea that she had a singular purpose to serve in the village and did it dutifully but morosely. _Hormones,_ she had heard Kagome reason to Inuyasha, who was confused by the word and never fully understood what she attempted to explain.  

Whatever _hormones_ was she had supposed she had it. She moved into a small hut at the outskirts of the village once Kaede had passed and busied herself reading the dusty volumes and scrolls she’d inherited from the old crone. When Kagome had come to admit with nervous glee that she had fallen pregnant, Rin had congratulated her in one breath and in the next realized that she couldn’t stay.

Two days before Kagome had given birth Rin had sat, alone, in a clearing in the woods. She tried to decipher the path that had led her to that point in her life, and where it meant to meander. Each chapter she’d lived had been a step to find and then lose what she loved most; her family, her life as a wanderer free and wild, Sesshoumaru. Remembering each loss made her shudder with the memory of something far more sinister, of the cold suffocating nothingness she’d felt as she’d wandered alone in death. Now, as Kagome began to build her own family Rin knew she would become a satellite in their daily life. She didn’t hold it against her but rather felt burdened by the shame and disappointment the idea spurred within her. _Alone again_.

Miserably plucking apart wildflowers in the wood, Rin rallied the courage to consider her alternatives. She would help Kagome as she could until she gave birth, and then she would leave. She would go west, and she wouldn’t stop until she found what she was looking for. Her desperation steeled her resolve and she committed herself to the idea, however unprepared she was.

And so she had left. Now, as she lumbered past that same clearing in the soft darkness of the night, she found herself staring down the cold reality of her decision.

She had left behind everything that Kagome had given her over the years they’d known each other, ashamed to be departing without a goodbye. She wore one of the few ornate kimonos from Sesshoumaru that still fit her, his other gifts of combs and pins and trinkets stowed away in the rucksack she carried on her back. She couldn’t bring herself to throw them away, although she had been able to reason with herself enough to leave the robes that no longer fit her behind for Kagome’s children. A handful of coins jingled in a pouch hung around her neck, and a stubby blade bounced at her hip; these were now her earthly possessions.

It was more than she’d had before, she told herself as she climbed over a fallen log and dove deeper into the wood. She had been a child alone in a more violent time, more or less, and she had flourished all the same—excluding a few minor details. She gritted her teeth and brushed past a low branch with a grunt; she could do this. She would do this. _She could do this_.

She stumbled through the dark shadows of the forest for hours, cursing under her breath as sharp twigs and underbrush snagged on her clothes and scratched at her skin. She was exhausted by the time she had managed to break through to a well-worn path that she knew led westward to the mountains and beyond. The night air had grown chilly; she hugged her arms tightly and trudged onward, ignoring her searing nerves as her conscience compelled her to turn back. Hoots and muffled yips and growls from the dim countryside made the hair on her neck stand on end. She pushed herself harder, her sides heaving as she tried to run away from her disappointment and the unshakeable fear that she was being watched.

\---

In seven days’ time she noticed unfamiliar weeds and flowers blooming along the pathway. She’d found, to her great satisfaction, that she’d remembered her old tricks for picking through the underbrush for healthful mushrooms, fruit, and easy prey, and had finally allowed herself pleasure in looking upon the snowcapped mountains that loomed in the distance. With the cold snap of the approaching winter in the air she met few travelers, the wiser of them already padding out the huts and caves they’d weather the season through. Rin was happy for it, having slipped back into her old habits of keeping quiet and letting her mind wander. The thrill of each day’s mystery made her spirits billow and quashed her thoughts about the family she’d left behind. _One day I’ll tell them,_ she pledged to herself as she carefully leaped across a crystalline stream, _when I’ve founded a house of my own and built my own way. I’ll explain why I left and they’ll be proud of me._

It was another four days before she woke to frost on the ground and, as the path began to wind upwards over craggy rocks and steep hills, she started to feel her rising spirits sink down again. She’d encountered a dire little village wedged between two towering crags and had spent a precious amount of money on a rough-worn sheepskin coat. She’d already torn the hem of her kimono to wrap her head and protect her ears from the cold, and now considered her bare hands with growing concern. She often found her mind wandering back to thoughts of her cozy hut, and had a growing chilly feeling in her stomach that she’d made a mistake.  

On one afternoon she stopped in her tracks as a spidery snowflake landed on her cheek. Another fell to sit in her lashes, and a third quickly drifted past. She tugged her head wrap further over her brow and squared her shoulders, trying to ignore the emptiness of her stomach. Even the animals had decided to burrow themselves away from the approaching snow, and the berry bushes and mushroom heads she’d been feasting upon had become black and barren. She rubbed her hands together, huffing her cloudy breath into her palms. _It’s because I’m so high up,_ she reasoned with herself, staring up at the mountain peaks that towered over her head. _Once I’m past these it will be warmer again_. She tried to ignore that this theory required her to climb the mountains themselves.

A solitary bird call pealed in her ear as she eased herself between two boulders into a gully in the path. The snowfall had quickly thickened and now the roadway was dusted in white. Her mind wandered to recipes she wished she could compile, parading through her thoughts in a singsong voice. Soups, noodles, eggplant with a brown sauce, rice cakes with crisped seaweed and sweet bean curd, _blood_. Not a dish but something real and splashed fresh on the pathway ahead of her. She froze, staring at the crisp red slashes still steaming on the snow. She yanked the dull dagger blade from her waist, her numb fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt. She heard a crashing noise ahead of her and the annoyed caws of a flock of birds spooked away from their perch.

Rin crept forward slowly, her boots crunching in the icy dirt. She inched away from the path, sneaking between the trunks of the naked trees in a flanking outcropping of vegetation. She paused; her cover would soon fade away into a bald clearing at the rocky base of the mountain range. At its center, collapsed underneath a solitary gnarled old oak tree, lay the thrashing body of a small doe. The pitiful creature made a final noise of consternation before falling still, a stream of thick dark blood bubbling out of a gash at its throat.

Rin hovered, still, crouched behind the winding branches of a thorny bush. She waited for the deer’s hunter to approach and claim its kill, her mind racing with the options; a weatherworn human who would be furious to find a woman disrupting his hunting grounds; a big cat happy to add another option to its dinner plate; or, most horribly, a wolf pack. Her heart thudded against her ribcage as she tried to devise a plan to retreat in broad sight.  

Rin was trapped for minutes without a reasonable plan for escape, then longer. Finally, the crows returned to their branches surrounding the clearing and the noises of the few animals braving the cold filled the silence of the afternoon. Her thighs aching from her crouch, Rin slowly unfolded herself and dared to peek around the bush into the clearing. She could see for hundreds of paces in either direction, and saw nothing but snow and rock and dark bark. Her hunger began to outweigh her fear and, sucking in a deep breath for courage, she slowly stepped out into the field.

She followed the ribbons of blood leading her to the fallen doe, already half-covered in snow. It looked like a healthy creature, it’s slit throat notwithstanding. _Maybe it cut itself against a branch_ , she reasoned, kneeling down to touch her fingers to its sinewy neck. She had enough scratches herself to know it was possible. She peeked behind her shoulder one final time before steeling herself to her task. With a grunt, she braced her knees and hooked her arms under the body of the doe, hoisting it up as smoothly as she could to balance it across her shoulders. She tottered slightly, shaking under the bulk of the creature, but with a final shift of weight was able to stand. Her fear of remaining in the clearing and her biting hunger were enough to grant her the strength to slowly stride forward towards the mountain.

Soon enough she found what she was looking for; not fully taller than her, a small cave built of fallen rock lay half-hidden by a petrified stump and the skeleton of a hardy bush. It was blessedly only a few meters up the incline of the peak, but all the same Rin was drenched in sweat and the warm blood of the doe by the time she and her companion had been dragged to the mouth of the cave. She crawled on her knees into the dusty cavern, checking the space for snakes and spiders before removing the pack from her back and taking a moment to draw in a few labored breaths. Still trembling with adrenaline, she tried to wipe her shaking hands against her coat before pulling the blade from her waist.

She set upon skinning the deer clumsily, cursing as the dull blade scratched against the creature and did little more than scrape away its coarse hair. She held back a wave of emotion as she worked, trying not to picture her predicament; a bedraggled girl, covered in blood with a ripped kimono and a lousy coat, shivering in a pit as she tried to butcher an unlucky runt of a deer. _She could do this_ , she repeated as a mantra, unsure if she were speaking aloud.

Once she had done what she could she turned to rummage through her bag. She pulled out the single artifact she’d decided to bring from Kagome’s long list of offerings; a stubby square of flint. She scooted deeper into the cave to pull out handfuls of dried leaves and branches that had blown in during the warmer seasons, piling the tinder carefully at the mouth of the cave. Wiping her frozen hands again, she set to striking her dagger against the flint. Red sparks flashed once, twice, and finally ignited a feathery pile of decomposing leaves.  _Good._

As the fire grew to size she dipped one of her fingers into the messy puddle of blood streaming beneath the pink body of the doe. Steadying her hand, she dabbed a set of characters against the dusty granite of the cave. She remembered the sutra well, and smiled to know that Kaede would have been proud to see her write it. It was a simple charm that Kaede had explained was indispensable to a traveler; a scent ward. With the characters now drying a dark copper on the walls she knew the smell of her dinner (and herself) would be hidden for at least the night from the sharp noses of any beast or youkai in the area. She was thankful that the cave was as small as it was, still within her fledgling skill level to protect. _I can do this,_ she reaffirmed, turning her attention to putting together a much needed meal.

\---

Laden with dried strips of meat, Rin emerged from the cave two days after she had entered. In that time the world around her had fully transformed into a winter scene. Her own appearance had slightly changed as well; she’d clumsily stitched together strips of hide she’d dried as best she could over her fire and had made herself a pair of mittens and a proper hood. She’d lashed the latter to the collar of her coat and had lengthened the length of its hem with uneven strips to keep her shins warm but unhindered enough to allow her to begin to ascent up the mountain. She was sure she looked ridiculous but was warm and, emboldened by a full stomach, eager to climb.

The morning light was bronze against the frost and grey stones of the mountainside. Rin climbed upwards methodically, finding each handhold carefully and doing her best to grip through the clumsy hem of her mittens. Her head was haloed in her misty breath but the hard work of summiting kept her warm underneath her ragtag hide cloak. She was accompanied by the sound of rocks and pebbles shifting under her heels and bouncing down the steep path she’d followed upwards, a dire reminder of the difficulty of her climb. All the same she was thrilled by her progress and proud of her strength, born in tree climbing expeditions at home.

 _Home._ What did the idea truly mean to her? She swung her legs over a jutting plate of rock, hoisting herself up to another handhold. A hut she could barely remember, filled with nursery songs; a stinking lean-to at the edge of a river where the fish carcasses would collect after the men had finished cleaning their daily catch; the lumbering back of a scaled beast with two heads. A sleepy village with a dozen familiar faces that were still strangers to her, year after year. Each memory seemed like visions from a fever dream. She wondered if Kagome felt at home, in Kaede’s hut, in a village that would become the ruins that would lay beneath the house where she would be born. It seemed that home was an absurdity to them all; in her hours of climbing and contemplation, Rin resigned herself to the idea that home would never be a luxury she’d come to understand.

Black dots danced briefly across her vision and halted her ascent. She pulled herself over a thin ledge and carefully sat down, resting her back against the cold face of the mountain. She took a deep breath, gulping down the thinning air as she wrung her wet mittens together to work feeling back into her hands.  A fresh wave of satisfaction spread through her chest as she looked out over the spidery canopy of the forest below her, tracking the distance she’d traveled in the grey pathway that disappeared into the horizon. She craned her head to view the white peak of the mountain above her, suddenly attainable. Her eyes closed in the warming sun of the afternoon and for a moment she was able to forget the wind chilling her limbs. _Wonderful_.

A sudden gust made her slap her palms to the ledge and her eyes snap open. A laugh caught in her throat as she steadied herself. She tugged her hood down tighter around her ears and peeked over the ledge again, stealing a final glance at the earth below before readying herself for the final summit. _Here we go_ , she thought, rising carefully to her feet. She turned to hoist herself up to the next shelf of shale and froze mid-swing, a dark shape at the corner of her vision stopping the breath in her chest. Another gust howled past her carrying a fistful of snow with it. Rin turned to face the fat bruised storm cloud that was quickly cloaking the base of the mountain and hugged herself against the mountain.

 A thin whine escaped her lips as she began to frantically grab at narrow handholds, her boots skidding against the icy rock face. _No_. She groaned as she pulled her weight over a craggy finger, becoming clumsy in her speed. She felt the warmth of the sun whipped away as the cloud rose to block it and shuddered against the thick wet snowflakes coating her shoulders. The steady wind tugged at her coat, sending her scrambling as she tried to find a steady hold. _No_. Her heart thudded in her ears and as the sky grew darker still she felt a horrible familiar dread. Her head spun as she slid against the loose rock of the cliff side. She winced as a sharp rock cut against her thigh. Sharp teeth. She wedged her heel into a crack. The wind howled loud into her ear, making her groan aloud for a second time. Dark. Cold. _No._


	3. The Climb and the Crane

Shuddering with exhaustion, Rin pulled herself over the crumbling edge of a snow-covered stone shelf. She thrust her arms out blindly in the swirling wind of the winter storm and found that the perch extended outwards onto a flat plane. She lurched forwards, falling flat on her stomach as she gasped for breath. Her frantic climb over the face of the mountain wasn’t over but she didn’t have the energy to continue. The snowstorm, however, raged on with fervor. _How?_ She wondered dimly, struggling up onto her knees. The black sky that broiled over her head had appeared without warning. She ripped off a mitten to pull the torn dirty hem of her kimono from her pack, tying it across the bridge of her nose to protect her face from the biting wind. She fumbled with a sinewy string of hide next, cinching the edges of her hood to her throat to lash the billowing material flat against her head. Her fingers were numb before she had a chance to shove them back into the glove. She felt her breath crystalizing in the silk fabric brushing at her lips and knew if she didn’t move out of the storm soon she would die.

Her boots slipping in the slush, Rin slowly worked her way back to her feet. She made an attempt to shield her eyes from the storm, wincing in the wind. She looked upwards, making out the jagged peak of the mountain hooded in the purple clouds. She would have to move around the circumference of the mountain, she realized grimly, rather than risk the full brunt of the storm at its summit. Earlier, as she had climbed, the sharp slope of the mountain had fallen away to a vertical face, save for the shovelhead of slate she stood on now. The trek had nearly bested her. She bounced from one heel to the other, trying to shake away her mounting anxiety—how would she traverse sideways across the cliffs of the mountain in this storm and survive?

 _By trying,_ she decided grimly, trudging forward against the gale. To stay standing where she was meant certain death; her greatest odds lay in the unlikely chance that she could succeed in sidling along the sheer width of the mountain and find a gentler pathway back down to the earth below. She tried to even her breathing. _I can do this,_ she reaffirmed.

As she walked inwards on the cliff the wind whipped by stronger still, funneled along the body of the peak with a noisy howl. She braced herself against the face of the mountain, hunching her shoulders against the storm and trying to make out the length of the flat plate she stood on. Searching for where it fell away again, she was distracted by a flash of blue sky above her head. She was dumbfounded by the sight; just above her lay a sharp series of winding stones that led, as if a stairway, to a crack in the storm clouds above her. _Impossible,_ she reasoned, cupping her palm against the side of her face to get a better view of the warm sunlight bouncing off the jagged stones of the peak beyond.

 _Impossible_ , she thought again, but all the same lurched towards the first of the steep steps. Stranger things had happened in this world. She took another look at the broiling storm at her back and, her lips set in a grim line, prepared to hoist her exhausted body over the first shelf ahead of her. She wasn’t too proud to take the easy way out.

“H-help.” A thin voice snuck through the howling of the wind. Rin froze, half-sure the sound was either a figment of her imagination or her own pitiful voice.

“Please… help … my lady …”

Rin lowered her leg, grounding herself again on the rock shelf and slowly turning about. She saw nothing but grey stone, white snow, black sky. Was she freezing to death? Was this just a hallucination? Her breath began to whistle through her lips again. _Calm down. I can do this._

“Please don’t leave me. H-here, I’m… I’m over here.” The voice called again. She whipped her head to the left and caught a dark form only a few paces away. She crouched against the wind, her hand falling to the hilt hanging at her waist. She advanced one step, and then another, and with a fresh gust the snow shifted enough to reveal the crumpled form of a man. Her nerves seared as she tried to reason between rushing to his side and running away. He picked up his head pitifully, revealing the pale face of a young human man. His lips were blue and chapped and his eyes were wild with pain. She felt compelled to turn and dash to the sunny path up the mountainside. _Get out of here,_ a tiny primitive voice yelled deep within her, growing more wild as her body grew colder and weaker. She stepped towards him.  

“What are you doing here?” She yelled over the wind.

“I fell while climbing yesterday,” he replied weakly. “Before the storm. I fear my leg is broken. I… I will surely die.” He pushed himself up to face her, gingerly adjusting his horrible twisted limb.

 _Leave,_ that ugly voice within her called again. _You will never be able to carry him up the path. He is all but dead already._ She kneeled down to meet the man eye-to-eye, peering at him over her icy silk sash. He was younger than she was by a few years and perhaps even smaller in build. He wore a messy array of simple clothes that marked him as a commoner. _Leave him or you will surely die._

“Can you walk on your other leg?” She asked him in a gravely tone.  

“I think so,” he replied, his voice hitched with panic. “I can try.” She nodded with a grunt and extended her arm towards him. He looked from her beckoning hand to her eyes, unsure. She nodded again and his lips quivered with emotion as he scrambled upwards into her embrace. They stood slowly, his cries of pain muffled against the rough hair of her coat as his broken leg dragged across the snowy ground.  Rin stumbled towards the edge of the shelf with her trembling passenger.

As she walked past the upwards path the twinkling sunlight at its summit winked at her seductively. She knew that, barring a miracle, the way across the breadth of the mountain would be impossible with the man in tow and likely unsurmountable for herself alone as well. Her energy lagged with each uneasy step. But what other option did she have? She couldn’t leave the man to die. She knew what it meant to die alone; the memories were enough to sway her.

Her feet followed the shrinking shelf of stone which continued to disappear in bites.

“Careful,” she murmured to the man as they came upon a smooth rock in their path. She sidled over it slowly, bracing herself under his weight as he dragged his lame body over the short obstacle. They shuddered against each other as they walked, each breathing heavily and trembling with exertion. The shelf shrunk again and then was not much wider than the length of her foot. But the thin shelf continued on, winding against the hip of the mountain. A foothold.

Breathlessly she ushered the man in front of her, his broken leg closest to her, and slowly they began to maneuver the ledge. She braced her weight against his chest with her arm, pinning him to the stone as he inched forward with grunts and gasps. Onward, onward; her vision pin holed to the steps before them. Onward.

“Thank you,” his voice called out, quiet at first. “Thank you, thank you,” he repeated, growing louder and more triumphant. She remained silent, hypnotized by her task. She was so focused on clinging to the face of the mountain that she did not notice the wind beginning to subside.

“Thank you, dear maiden.” The swirling snow began to slow, taking pause to tumble down calmly from the sky. The howling in her ears was replaced by the thudding rush of her own blood coursing through her veins. Onward, onward. The splatter of something dripping added to her mantra; the ice melting in her silk facemask and falling to join streaming fingers of meltwater rushing over the path. It was only when that path began to fan wide again that Rin realized she felt the warmth of the sun shining on her cheeks.

The man stumbled forward onto a gently sloping plateau similar to the one where she had found him. He sunk to his knees, laughing and sobbing in equal measure. She lurched forward to meet him, catching herself on her hands and knees and sucking in the crisp still air hungrily.

“Thank you.” This time she turned to meet him. She stared into his tear-streaked face, too winded to reply. “I have been waiting for so long,” he continued, wiping at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “so many years… so many years. You were the only one.”

“What?” She managed in a ragged gasp, tearing the wet sash from her mouth and throwing it to the ground.

“My dear sweet child,” the man replied, reaching out towards her. “Of all the men who have challenged this mountain, you are the only one to have extended your hand to me. All the rest took the easier path. Hundreds of them turned their back to me. If they would have known that death awaited them on the mountain peak surely their choice would have been different. But you,” he wagged his finger at her, laughing, “you strode towards death in the hopes that a stranger would not die.” He stood up suddenly, smoothly, and Rin yelped as his crippled leg began to fall away in cloudy clumps of ash. Without stepping he somehow moved towards her, his good leg disappearing like its neighbor. He approached the stupefied woman and cradled her head in his hands.

“At long last I am liberated.” He smiled down at her, framed in rising clouds of swirling dust and the blue sky behind him. His eyes locked with hers, deep and serene where they had once been frenzied and bleak. He was silent for a moment as he studied her. “You will become strong in your lifetime, and fearless still; but your greatest gift will always be the goodness of your heart.” He bent forward and pressed his lips against her brow, sending a wave of heat through her body that warmed the cold space beneath her breast. “I will not forget what you have done for me; when it matters most, I will repay my debt to you. Until that dire hour comes,” he finished in a pledge, a faint fluttering noise muting his words as the disintegrating cloud furrowed up into his chest, “I thank you, and bless you in your travels.”

The hands at her temples fell away. With a crack of wind the man was swept away, the cloud of ash sucked into the clockwise tailwind of a red-headed crane. The bird soared away with a few slow flaps of its broad black wings, leaving Rin speechless in its wake as she watched it disappear into the horizon.

She pulled her knees into her chest and wept.

_Onward._

\---

The path down the mountain was far more forgiving than her journey towards the summit, but the sun had long since set by the time Rin made her way to the base. She eased herself off the final boulder and felt the ground beneath her feet, a deep sigh tumbling forth from within her chest. She began to walk westward, unsure what to do other than to maintain her forward momentum. She knew, at the back of her mind, that she had been dealt a miraculous deal by fate to have survived her trek across the mountain range but simply didn’t have the energy to be relieved. Soaked to the bone from sweat and the melting snow she was instead cold and terribly tired.

Would this be her life now, she wondered, and was unable to find an answer. Whenever she tried to conjure up an image of where she was headed she was met with an empty vision in her mind. Would she walk because she could, eat when she was able, sleep when she wasn’t afraid, until she finally could go no further? She brushed through the low bare branches of a willow tree, sinking back into the shadows of another unnamed forest pierced through by the westward path. In the village she had lived by a set of duties that could be ticked off, task by task, day by day. She’d had a limited roster to pick from as she built her fragile web of friends and family. Everything had been a simple game that had no risk but neither, to her, a reward. Here was the wild open alternative, twinkling before her under the bald stars of another winter evening, and she felt painfully aware of her naiveté as she took her place within it.

 _There is nothing greater here. There is no hidden prize._ She thought of the daydreams she’d plunged herself into for all of those years, in which she’d play the role of some princess of the wilderness, or the queen to a fearsome silver-haired warrior who’s face she was only able to half-conjure out of shame. In those dreams to wander meant to be free, and to survive meant that she was strong and meaningful, special. She walked by the flattened, frozen corpse of a bedraggled rabbit forgotten in the underbrush and realized that there lay the reality of those daydreams. Her heart thudded hard and painful in her chest.  

She walked onwards for hours before stumbling to a stop at the sight of some white creature in the path before her. It was not facing her but was as tall as her waist if not taller, and flashed the proud spots of a creature unconcerned with blending in. A predator. She remembered the pricking feeling that she’d carried at the nape of her neck since she had begun, the ages-old paranoia of being stalked. Had she been found, after everything that had happened? The adrenaline in her veins rallied her enough to pull the dagger free from her waist. She could not muster her voice to call out but growled out in warning. _Show me what you are,_ she challenged, her mounting frustration and desperation transforming into a primordial anger.

Unmet with a response she lurched forwards, swinging blindly with the blade and letting wordless noises slip through her lips. Her first six steps were fruitless, but with the seventh she caught the white creature with the blunt dagger. It fell to the side, revealing the pile of shining silk underclothes that it had been hoarding, and it was in this moment that Rin realized she had attacked a fur cloak.

She fell backwards, startled, her legs sprawled in front of her as she considered the once-neat stack of clothing she’d parried. The long fur of the cloak swayed gently in the evening wind, a snowy white sprinkled with black nut-shaped spots. She pulled it into her lap without thinking, embarrassed to see that it had landed in a wet puddle. She rubbed at the wet spot robotically as she surveyed the rest of the bounty. The kosode looked well-made and expensive, tiny red cherry blossoms threaded into the hem as a private surprise for the wearer. A black kimono was folded neatly beside it, trimmed along the sleeves and neckline with a broad floral pattern studded with pearls. The thick folds of a quilted silk jacket framed the kimono from behind, the full array protected from the damp ground on an oiled hide. A solid pair of boots sat astride the clothing, strange and masculine compared to the delicate wardrobe but smoothly finished all the same.

Rin became hyper-sensitive to the stinking damp weight of the sheepskin coat hanging on her shoulders. The abandoned satchel of clothes was nearly irresistible but the wealth of the find intimidated her. _Everything has a cost,_ she thought; _what will I pay for these things?_ Another voice called out in her mind, reminding her that she was wet and cold and dressed in rags. Her mind raced back to the image of the dead rabbit earlier, its grey fur matted and muddied. _That’s what happens to the meek_ , the voice appealed; _that’s what happens when you don’t take what you need._  

“Fine,” she blurted aloud, scrambling to her feet. She piled the fur on top of the clothes and grabbed two corners of the hide below them. She tied the ends and grasped the remaining two, binding the haul into a tight satchel which she then hugged to her chest. She jogged forward across the path, energized by the dueling emotion of joy for having found something so precious and fear of being caught as a thief.

 _A clumsy merchant,_ she considered as she loped down the path, _with too much to handle dropped them on the path. Or an underappreciated servant left them behind in revenge._ Yes, surely one of those were true; she hardly thought a naked aristocrat would begin to pursue her. She ignored the far more likely scenario that she had plucked the bounty from a bandit who had squirreled away their stolen goods. She preferred not to think much about bandits at all.

She jogged until the forest grew denser and then, huffing, skipped over the edge of the path to cloak herself more fully behind a pillar of ancient trees. With the moonlight soaked up by the dense evergreen canopy she could barely make out the space around her. _Good enough_ , she decided, and set down the satchel of clothes. She quickly began to disrobe.

She cast away her coat first, her nose wrinkling slightly at the sight of it on the ground before her. When she had bought it the coat had smelled like the sheep that had died to make it, and she had only made it worse. The shoulders were stained by the blood of the doe she had slaughtered in what seemed to be another lifetime, and the elbows were scuffed and torn from her harried climb.

She peeled away the remains of her once-fine kimono next, and then the kosode below, shivering as she exposed herself to the night. She tore open the packet at her feet and quickly pulled the cool silk of the new under-robe around her shoulders, ignoring the blasphemous feeling of allowing her unwashed skin to sully the expensive fabric.  The joy of feeling dry clean clothes again overcame her shame; she was fast to don the kimono. She fumbled slightly with the obi but was pleased to find that the sleeves weren’t very full and, despite the luxury of the embroidery, fairly pragmatic in their design. The padded coat came next, leaving her fairly delirious as it hugged a toasty warmth to her chest.

She kicked off her muddy boots and was surprised to find their replacement a fine fit to her small feet. She thanked her fate again, wiggling her numb toes to life. The cloak came last, draped over the pack she’d replaced at her back, an excessive end to her ensemble and almost too heavy to wear.

She retreated to the path as quickly as she’d left it, embarrassed by the ordeal and the filthy clothes she’d left behind. Anxious to leave the forest she pushed herself forward, but quickly found that the heat of the clothing was making her eyelids droop even as she walked. She endured for another hundred paces before stumbling over a root and scuffing the fine leather at the toe of one of her new boots. _Enough_. She had climbed a mountain and defied death; she could allow herself to sleep a few hours in the woods.

She found a downed tree, trapped in a half-suspended arch in the branches of its neighbor, and crawled into the hooded cave that its drooping branches formed. She spread the hide she’d found on the ground and laid her pack at its center, nestling against it in a child-like pose. Pulling the cloak tight around her, she pressed her face into the musky fur and tumbled into a dreamless sleep.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading and commenting so far! I've always loved Rin's potential as a character and am really enjoying piecing together a story for her (and, not to worry, Sesshoumaru too). I'm hoping to keep a weekly cadence for future chapter updates, and love reading your reactions in between, so please keep them coming. Cheers! :)


	4. Poison

 “Milady,” a tiny voice chirped. Rin shifted in her sleep, burrowing deeper into her dense fur cloak; oh, how she’d missed this feeling. She shrank away from the touch of a hand on her shoulder and the imploring voice that repeated its call. _Go away._

“Milady, are you alright?” The voice insisted in a reedy tone. Rin groaned and forced her eyes to open. The world was dark and bleary for a moment, before she had a chance to blink away the dredges of her dreaming. Then it was just dark. _Dusk._ She sat up at once, startling the little girl who was staring down at her. _I slept through the day._ An ember of frustration sprung to life in her stomach as she thought of the time she’d wasted and the danger she’d put herself in. The girl watched the frown crease the woman’s face and whimpered.

“I-I’m very sorry to disturb you, milady. I j-just wanted to make sure you were alright. There are… i-it’s not safe here at night.” The girl bowed deeply before her. A pang of misery sparked through Rin’s gut; _oh, no._ She’d scared her.

“Thank you, little sister.” Rin replied sweetly, apologetically. She stood, smoothed out her crooked robes, and gathered her things. The girl fidgeted nervously.

“What’s your name?” Rin ventured, kneeling to meet the girl’s eyes.

“Manami,” the girl replied quietly, chewing on the short nail of one of her grubby fingers.

“What a pretty name,” Rin cooed in reply. “My name is Rin. It is very nice to meet you, Manami-chan. Do you live nearby?” The girl nodded in response, her eyes stuck fast to Rin’s feet. Rin absentmindedly tucked her scuffed boot behind the other.

“With your mother and father?” Manami nodded again. “Why don’t we take you back to them, then. Will you lead the way?” Rin held out a hand to the girl who, after building the courage to peek up at Rin’s face, timidly accepted it. Her tiny palm was rough with calluses, and hot and damp, as all children’s hands seemed to be. It gave Rin an unexpected comfort to feel Manami’s grip tighten as she led her through the forest with youthful determination.

“Are you a princess?” Manami asked suddenly, peeking over her shoulder at Rin.

“What? Oh no,” Rin chuckled in response. “I’m not a princess. I’m just like you,” she ventured, “only I’m traveling from another village that’s far away from here.”

“You don’t look like me,” the girl chirped back, turning to focus on the path ahead. “But it’s alright, I won’t tell anyone, if it’s a secret.” Rin smiled.

“Manami!” A stern voice echoed through the wood, accompanied by the crunch of footfalls through the leaves. “Where have you gone? Manami!” A man emerged from behind the broad trunk of a pine. He stopped in his tracks as he caught sight of the richly-adorned woman trailing behind his daughter.

“Oh! Milady, I apologize, I hope my daughter has not disturbed you.” He bowed deeply, gesturing sharply as he did to usher Manami his way. The little girl defied him, as it seemed she was wont to do, staying at Rin’s side with her hand still firmly clasped.

“This is Rin-sama,” she announced. “She’s a princess.” Rin made an exasperated sound as she bowed in return to the man.

“I am not a princess.” She reaffirmed, meeting the man’s eyes as he returned to full posture. She noticed his stare was fast at her throat; her hand went to the spot he gazed upon, and was met with the feeling of the cool pearls at her collar and the soft fur of her wrap. _Right_ , she realized. She could understand the confusion.

“I’m just a traveler from east, beyond the mountains.” The explanation seemed to do her a further disservice; the man’s brow furrowed as he observed her, but he made no response. “I stopped to rest in the forest and it seems I overslept,” she admitted. “Little Manami found me and helped me find my way out before I was met with any trouble. She was a great help.” Manami looked up at Rin and beamed at the compliment. 

The man grunted a reply, waving again at the girl with growing impatience. The girl huffed and released Rin’s hand. She slowly made her way over to her father, kicking the dirt as she did.

“Rin-sama,” he offered finally, at just the moment Rin began to speak her goodbyes. “have you a place to stay for the night?”

“I’ve rested enough,” Rin replied with a smile, “I believe I’ll continue on my way.”

“This forest is not safe at night,” the man replied in repetition of the girl’s own warning. “Please, you’d do me an honor of sheltering in my home. The nearest village is a day’s walk away. You’ll make little progress without the light of the sun.” His last addendum came upon seeing her look of confidence at his warning. She supposed it was true enough and, admittedly, it was a relief to speak with others after nothing but her harried conversation with the mountain spirit to have distracted her for what seemed to have been an eon.

“Thank you, sir. I suppose I shall take you up on your generous offer.”

\---

The peasant family was at a loss as to where to avert their gaze. They sat in a neat circle around the hearth of their modest home, their eyes darting from the fire to the shadowy corners of the hut to the dirty face of the strange woman who sat before them. They were struck dumb by the richness of her clothes, which fit her figure in a way that belied that they’d been tailored for her, but recognized the simple way she ate and spoke with them.  Her long hair was bound back without pretense and messy from what she’d said were weeks of sleeping in the road, but she’d folded her cloak and coat in that neat way that mother Suzumi had only seen done in the fine storefronts of the trading village. And then there was the business of her story about the mountain…

Manami was not distracted by these circumstances.

“Do you have cats in your village?” She queried, rocking on her heels between her two silent elder sisters.

“Yes,” Rin laughed in reply, breaking apart a sliver of boiled potato in her bowl with her chopsticks. The stew they’d prepared was simple and thin, but the warmth of it alone made it taste as though it were the finest meal she’d ever eaten. Her offering of a leathery handful of venison had been accepted with much fanfare and polite refusals, and now sat upon the family’s singular ceramic dish in a place of honor at the center of the room. A little boy eyed it hungrily, but had, like the rest of the family, not yet worked up the courage to pluck a piece to eat. “Many of the farmers keep cats to keep the mice away.”

“Mother says we can’t have a cat because it would scare the spirits that live in the forest,” the little girl rattled on, “but they are my favorite animal and I would like to have at least one. Father says maybe if I’m very good I can get a kitten but only if I take care of it very well every day, and don’t tell Mother.” The father shook his head, trying to hide his smile. “Do you like cats, lady princess?”

“I’m not a…” Rin stopped herself, realizing that yet another explanation would do her no good. “To be honest, Manami-chan, I prefer dogs.” Manami nodded sagely, as if they’d come to the end of a complicated negotiation, and quickly turned her attention to the plate of venison. She selected the largest piece and ate it enthusiastically.

\---

After the meal had been finished and the children whisked to bed, Rin sat bundled in her fur at the entrance of the home. She stared out at the small clearing that protected the family from the wild forest, enjoying her full stomach and the gentle snowfall that twinkled in the evening twilight. The moon was large and set the meadow alight with a silver glow, strong enough to cast shadows against the snow.

The father, Ichiro, emerged from within the hut and took a seat beside her. He pulled a long-necked pipe from the folds of his robes and set it alight with an ember he’d stolen from the hearth. She smiled at him in greeting, pleased that he’d finally taken her word that formalities were unnecessary between them.

“Thank you,” she began, “for inviting me into your home. Your family is so wonderful.”  

“You are most welcome,” he replied in a puff of sweet-smelling smoke. “We rarely have visitors. Well, never, truly. The earth is poor here and the forests are wild. But this is the land that my ancestors tilled and we are pleased to serve our duty in tending to it. We’re happy here,” he added, almost defensively, “but little Manami… she’s got a mind of her own about things. It does her good to meet new people.”

“She’s spectacular,” Rin admitted, “smart and funny and brave. You must be proud of her.” He smiled as a confirmation, and Rin felt herself return the expression in turn. She’d met few families who would have fostered Manami’s spirit the way her father did, particularly deep in the countryside. “She is so very lucky to have a family like yours.”    

“It is all we have,” he replied simply. They both stared out into the clearing for a moment, nothing but the soft sounds of the snow and the sleepy forest interrupting them.

“She reminds me of myself at her age,” Rin drawled after a while, “I would have done the same thing if I had come upon a stranger in the woods. You’re right to keep an eye on her,” they both laughed, “but she will be fine.”

“You are from a farming village,” he cited from their dinner conversation. She nodded. “Where?”

“To the east, beyond these mountains and another one still. I’m afraid it didn’t have a name and for all I know it may be no more. But I’ve been living in another village, a larger one, only perhaps a fortnight from here on horseback.”  

“Eastward beyond the mountain?” He queried. She nodded and was met with a frown. “There’s no need to fib. Certainly you realize I’m no threat to your secrets.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you are saying,” Rin stuttered. Ichiro took a long drawl from his pipe, studying her.

“No one has crossed the mountain in my lifetime, and perhaps not even before it. A terrible mountain spirit watches over it and casts men down like dry leaves. He may allow the passage of youkai, that is true, but no mortal being; and I don’t take you for a youkai.”

“Are there many youkai here?” Rin asked, unsure of how to address his first statement. The truth of it would make her look mad. The man shook his head, giving her the opportunity to change the subject. “But you mentioned the forest…?”

“There may be a few lower youkai, as there are anywhere. But they are no bother to anything larger than a boar. What you must be vigilant of is the Serpent Gang.”

“The Serpent Gang?”

“A group of bandits. Their numbers are constantly changing as they kill themselves off in drunken brawls and whisk away young men from unfortunate villages,” he tapped a clod of ash from his pipe, pocketing it away, “however, they are predictable in every other way. They prey upon the unprepared and unlucky and take everything they can. They are brutes, to be sure, but their greatest strength lies in their chattel. They each carry a great serpent between them, picking only the nastiest from a nest, and drink its venom to become accustomed to its bites; for anyone else a bite is deadly. They simply need to release one into the rafters to dispatch a great house and all the men within it... as well as all the riches.”  

“Have they bothered you before?” Rin asked, absentmindedly pulling her cloak tighter across her shoulders.

“No, we haven’t the sort of thing that would attract them. Our ox died in the last winter and even they pity us enough to keep our own cabbages.” He smiled, but the expression quickly washed away. “However, you must be careful, dressed the way you are. Travel only during the day, and only on the path set before you. If you leave with the sun tomorrow, you’ll make it to the next village before nightfall. Stay there an evening, and then by your next day’s travel you will be far enough to have lost their interest.”  

“I understand. Thank you.”

“Please heed my warning, little princess,” he affirmed gently, kindly. “You’re bold like my Manami but they’d kill you all the same.”

\---

Rin rose early that next morning, before the sun had fully risen. The hut was transformed from the night before, when the hearth had thrown dramatic shadows across the room and the space had been filled with Manami’s cheerful voice. Now Rin could see the threadbare linens, the empty baskets, the snow creeping through chinks in the wall. She caught sight of the neat line of ratty shoes the children wore, nothing but rags. Her heart sank as she remembered the full dinner pot the night before, the second and third helpings. The shriveled potatoes and stubby carrots surely had been a hearty portion of their winter reserves. _The earth is poor here_ , Ichiro’s voice echoed. 

Moving quietly between the sleeping forms in the room, Rin made her way to her things at the door. She carefully upended her pack and organized the items within it into neat piles. The tough strips of venison went first, arranged into a towering mélange on the family’s serving plate. She fingered an ornately carved bone box next, tracing the lotus flowers of the onyx and mother-of-pearl inlay on its lid. A hairpin adorned with large precious stones lay within, an ostentatious gift from Sesshoumaru that she had received at his last visit. Kaede had clucked her tongue at the treasure and even Kagome had looked unnerved by the wealth of it when she had revealed it after he had left those many years ago.

When she knew she was alone, sometimes, she would fasten it in her hair and run her fingers over the familiar curves of the marquise diamonds and the briolettes of emerald that fashioned its delicate fan. She would dream of a castle in the sky, a thousand toad-faced servants, and of a fearsome bridegroom who reserved a gentle lover’s touch for her alone. _A foolish fantasy, nothing more._ Rin allowed herself one final look at the pin before snapping the box shut and setting it beside the plate. She rubbed at her eyes self-consciously before turning back to pile pretty jade combs and onyx figurines alongside the other offerings. 

Once each gift was properly displayed she shouldered her empty bag and wrapped herself up in her fur. Before she lost her nerve she stepped out of the warm hut and into the wild beyond. The first rays of sunlight had just begun to color the sky. _Right,_ she thought, energized by the brisk morning air, _let’s go._

\---

It was a perfect day to travel. The sky was bold and blue and, without a cloud to shade it, the sun fell hot on the earth. Rin had folded away her cloak hours before and undone the tiny buttons of her jacket to coax in the cool breeze. Her westward passage seemed less dire, now that she had rested, and she felt her spirits building. Perhaps she’d work at the trading village, now that winter had arrived. She had long since spent her last coin and had learned from her mistakes of starting upon a trek without being properly prepared. The skills of a nursemaid were universal and, despite the trouble she’d always caused Kaede, she enjoyed helping others as she played the healer role. She knew, from the maps Kagome had drawn for her in the dust when she was still young, that soon she’d come upon the ocean and the great mainland beyond. _Yes,_ she decided, _I will winter in the village and then begin my journey in truth._ Her head spun with excitement at the wild potential of such an endeavor.

The sun had just begun to fall from its crest when she noticed the thatched roofs of the village beyond the forest canopy. Soon she heard the cries and calls of merchants and mothers harrying their children through the square. While Manami’s family had been a welcome sight, the hustle and bustle of the village was jarring; she gritted her teeth as she stepped through the gates. _I can do this_ , she promised herself, squaring her shoulders at the thought of it all.  

She began to query the passing crowds about the local healer, receiving sets of directions that pointed her towards every corner of the village. She seemed to have arrived at just the moment when the men of the village were scheduled to mill about and jeer. They had been left without much to do now that the fields had been picked clean of their autumn harvests. Their eyes were quickly upon her and she caught them gossiping at every corner. The charade left a sour feeling in her stomach.

“Ah!” She cried out as she bumped into a woman burdened with a basket of reeds. The woman glared back in response and may have called out at her; Rin was too distracted by the coarse yell of an old man who trod upon her toes and instructed her to mind where she was walking. Her face grew hot with anger as she did her best to ignore a whistle from two young men observing her from behind their cups underneath a tea house awning. _I can do this. I can do this._

Ahead of her the crowds grew larger still, huddled around a man with a painted face who was singing a fable about a pig-faced forest spirit and his escapades with a naïve village girl. The din of the song and its murmuring audience was enough to make Rin’s head ache. She slipped down a thin path between two wattle and daub walls, her boots squelching in the mud. She remembered, perhaps too late, why she had loved wandering out in the fresh open air of the wild.

She slowed her pace as she came upon a quiet street, empty save for a few young beggars and a single merchant’s stall. Rubbing her temples, she sat upon a low dirt step to catch her breath. She watched a young boy play with a coin from his alms between his fingers, the amber sunlight glittering along its edge. _What am I doing here,_ she wondered, feeling delirious from the harsh back-and-forth of her mood. Had she really forgotten how unbearable people could be?

She sighed, resting her chin in her palm and letting her eyes wander over to the merchant’s stall. The mewling of a kitten caught her attention, and she quickly located the source of the sound in a small wooden cage balanced between rolls of tatami and dried lizards. Her mind begun to spin with ideas.

\---

The evening was dark, the full moon of the previous night swept away in its monthly journey to be reborn. Rin didn’t mind; the light of the torch she grasped in her left hand was bright and she was thrilled by her latest set of plans. As soon as she had stepped into the village she knew that she couldn’t bear to stay there. The markets, however, had proven to be a perfect place to trade her cloak for a heavy sack of clothing and provisions and a sleeping kitten; the wares with which she’d buy a winter’s stay with Manami’s family. She was sure Suzumi would accept an extra pair of hands to help raise six children, and she’d prove to Ichiro that she could be just as useful in the fields as his prepubescent sons.

She fought the urge to whistle as she retraced her steps back to their homestead. Ichiro’s warning of the snake-wielding boogeymen of the forest had stayed with her, but her confidence was not swayed. In her short life she’d been met by bandits before, and far worse; she could handle whatever came her way. She felt a brazen smile blossom on her lips and sped up her pace, anxious to return to the idyllic clearing that lay ahead.

She had fallen deep into her memories of the tricks and trade of the farmers in Kagome’s village when she first noticed a twin glow to her torch glittering between the inky tree trunks. She slowed her pace, annoyed by the prospect of incoming travelers delaying her arrival. She edged around a curve in the trail and began to look for a secondary path towards the home, brushing aside branches and vines. Her search was cut short by a child’s cry echoing into the night, met soon by another. Then, louder, a bone-chilling wail; a woman’s voice, cut short. Rin dropped the sack in shock, clumsily releasing the yelping kitten into the brush as she dashed forwards down the path towards the sounds of violence.

She had made good progress—the homestead was not far away. With each stride the forest around her seemed to come to life under the sinister red glow of a growing fire. Rin’s heart thudded hard against her ribs as she came to the edge of the wood and saw the home and humble fields alight at the heart of the hungry inferno. She caught sight of silhouettes against the flames and ran towards them, her eyes streaming from the thick pungent smoke.

“…is a princess I’ll find her next,” a masculine voice emerged from within the crackling of the flames as she came closer. “Maybe I’ll let’er be my queen.” Laughter, more men. Rin stumbled to a stop. There was nowhere left to run. She tried to peer through the smoke to find the source of the voices, her free hand clamped around her mouth in a poor attempt to filter in clean air. She felt something crack beneath her boot and looked down to see the glittering lid of her hairpin box half-hidden beneath the mud. It had been wrenched off at its hinges and the mother-of-pearl had been chipped away in large sections, leaving behind the empty sockets of the delicate flowers that had once adorned it. She saw a tiny hand next and, half-hidden in the smoke, the limp and bloody body to which it was attached.

“Who’er’you?” A voice demanded at her back. She spun on her heels, striking out blindly with the crackling head of her torch. It made contact with something solid and she heard a gruff cry of surprise. She felt a sharp pain at her thigh, as if an ember had fallen there from the flames, and then a duller one as something heavy fell against her hip. She swung again, blinded a mixture of horror and rage.

“Bitch!” came a snarling cry. Her head spun as a pair of strong arms grabbed her around the shoulders and wrenched her to the ground. A wild noise came from deep within her chest as she felt a horrible pain spread up her leg. She was aware of the sick crunch of something in her hand as the heel of a boot tread upon it, but it was if her body and the world it lived within was a universe apart from the agony that pulsed with each heartbeat from the burning spot upon her thigh.

Her head fell to the side into the mud. The fire was bright and close and hot. She saw the shadowy outline of thick legs, shining blades, and black scales glistening like wet stones as some horrible creature slithered around her. The smoke burned her eyes. As she blinked away her tears she found with each moment the world was cloaked more densely in something dark and otherworldly.

Soon she was blind. Her heart raced and she felt herself choke; she was aware that, somewhere, her fingers were scratching against her throat to try to find a way to let air into her lungs. She felt something wet against her cheek and heard a sudden, terrible noise. The crackling of the fire was replaced by a bone-chilling roar that continued to echo in her head, louder and louder with each reverberation. _Dying_ , she realized. She felt the ground beneath her fall away. Her head nodded backwards into nothingness. It seemed as though she was moving at great speed, fast enough to take her breath away if she could breathe. She knew she wasn’t. She’d felt this before. She was dying.

\---

The snow was white and clean and pure. There was no wind, no locusts chirping or sparrows trilling their calls. Even the hum of a silent day was missing, replaced by the ringing of a bell that was too low in tone for her to hear. The flat land that lay before her formed a crisp line with the blue sky, as if the earth and the heavens were the two perfect halves of a bicolor ball.

She had woken up in the middle of the field alone and undisturbed. The snow was deep but it felt as if she were wrapped in the dense fur of her cloak. _No,_ she remembered as she sat up to inspect the world around her, _I sold the cloak to the man with the broken tooth in the market._ More memories rushed through her mind, terrible ones, but she felt calm and unmoved. She saw that she was naked but did not feel the cold bite of the winter day—nor the hot glow of the sun that hung suspended above her head. It was as if she was submerged in a still pool of warm water. The air even felt thick to breathe, although she did so freely.

She stood and felt compelled to begin walking towards the horizon. She did so with her head bowed, watching as her bare feet swung forwards with each step, leaving the snow undisturbed in her wake. It was easy to lose track of time. When she looked up again she was startled to see a solitary doe standing before her.

The deer was nibbling at the snow as if it were chewing upon sweet grass. It was skinned, each muscle and tendon visible as it lazily worked its way across the field. It was not startled by Rin, who in turn was unruffled by the creature’s gore. Eventually it turned to walk away and Rin followed.

The doe led her forward on an uninterrupted straight line. She watched its stringy tail flick as it trotted, the meat of its muscles shiny in the sunlight. After some time it collapsed and, as its body hit the ground, was transformed with a flurry of motion into a dozen small black-feathered birds. She watched wordlessly as they struck out in a neat formation, continuing the doe’s westward march. They looked like a checkerboard unfurling against the cloudless sky, and although they flew fast she had no trouble in keeping pace.

They continued their procession until, one by one, the flock dropped like stones to land petrified on the path before her. The final casualty took a new form as it crashed to the ground, bouncing back in the body of a black serpent that slithered forward on a serpentine track. A phantom pain in her right thigh stirred Rin awake from her daze and, with a sudden spark of fury in her breast, she strode forward and crushed the snake’s skull with the heel of her foot.

As she stepped down she was blinded by a piercing white light. When her vision returned she found that she had been transported to the black-pebbled shore of a craggy cove. Wild waves crashed soundlessly against the rocks in great white foamy surges. She strode forward, wincing with each step; the stones under her feet were sharp and sent a fiery pain rippling up her legs and into her chest. As she waded into the surf she was shocked by the cold water which ripped the breath from her lungs and sent her whole body shivering. She hugged her arms across her chest, feeling her skin prickle.

A figure began to materialize out of the surf before her. It was tall and broad chested, with a train of sea foam blowing behind it like a great cloak. The figure reached out its long fingers, cupping her face in its palms. It looked down at her with deep-set eyes that were black and empty. She felt it trace her cheek with a cold finger and was unafraid. She drew herself up on her toes, hiding a wince as the rocks cut into her naked soles, and caught the figure in a kiss. It faltered for a moment before pulling her in, wrapping her body in a tight embrace. Her head spun as she was tugged into the waves. She felt herself tumble forward, head-over-heels, but kept her eyes closed and lips pressed hard against the second pair.  

A great glowing warmth passed between them, filling her lungs until they felt as if they’d burst. The current at her back fell away and she careened backwards, breaking their kiss. The force of the fall snapped her eyes open; for a moment she was stunned by the sudden rush of light and sound and smell around her. An uninvited gasp tumbled through her lips as her vision focused on a face, too-close, with bestial eyes locked fast on her own. Her whirlpool paramour had been replaced by a pale man with long silvery hair that had pooled onto her chest. She felt the sharp points of his fingertips at the nape of her neck and realized that he was cradling her weight. He looked startled and relieved and ashamed and tired; each emotion seemed misplaced and unfamiliar on his face. She’d never known him to look tired before.

“S…Sesshoumaru-sama…”


	5. Snake Catcher

For once, Rin was thankful that Sesshoumaru was so stubbornly taciturn—it gave her the silence she needed to take stock of her situation. Each word she spoke made her throat burn like she’d swallowed a live coal, but more than that, what could she say? How could she possibly ask what was going on, how could any explanation be adequate in return? Moments after she had woken up in his arms he’d set her down on a tall pile of cushions and covered her carefully with a thick fur, each motion showing he’d done it before. Now he sat a few paces away, silent, watching her like a cat underneath the boughs of a snow-laden conifer tree. 

She swallowed, flinching at the coarse feeling in her throat and the pull of the scabbed skin on her neck. She slid her eyes away from the snow at Sesshoumaru’s feet and gazed down at her hands. The left one was bound in a thick cloth that stank with the acrid smell of some poultice within. From the dull throb in her palm she knew something had been broken. Her right hand was red and black from bruises and scuffs, but she saw that the nails were clean. A memory of the muddy field from before—whenever that had been, days before, hours before-- made her cheeks hot. She’d been bathed.

Desperate to distract herself from the thought, she wiggled her toes to continue her inspection. She rolled one leg to the side and then another. The second motion made her gasp with pain.

“Don’t,” came a stern order from Sesshoumaru, the first thing he’d said aloud. “Not yet.” The deep rumble of his voice made her blush deepen. She felt tears prick her eyes as a rush of emotions caught in her chest; embarrassment, fear, frustration, joy. She brushed them away with her good hand, running her fingers over the scab of a cut in her lower lip after she was done. The simple motion was exhausting, compounded by the aches that thudded along with her heartbeat in a dozen different places. She felt her eyelids grow heavy and let them shut.

\---

It was night when she woke again. The crackle of a nearby fire made her stomach sour, but the heat of it felt good against her face. It was winter in earnest now; the air was cold and crisp and heavy with snow. She saw that Sesshoumaru had fashioned a canopy over her head with a thin fabric that was draped across the hundred spindly branches above her. She was glad for it, warm and dry in her cozy nest of pillows and furs.

He sat with his back to her, silently stoking the fire. She traced the shape of his broad shoulders with her eyes. He looked like a stone statue in the flickering light, all hard edges and straight planes. She glanced down, fingering a pinch of fur with her good hand. She rolled the soft strands together between her fingers and toyed with the rope she’d formed A gentle breeze sent goosebumps down her arm; she jiggled it to tumble the long sleeve of her robes back down to her wrist. She was distracted by a splash of color against the bone silk as the sleeve slid. There, embroidered along the inner cuff, ran a line of tiny red cherry blossoms.

“It was you,” she croaked. He turned to look at her, his face unreadable. “The deer… the clothes… It was you. You’ve been following me.” She mustered the courage to look him in the eye. He stared back, still silent. His pupils were iridescent in the darkness, flashing with the amber light of the fire.

“You saw me go hungry,” she continued, speaking aloud each revelation as it came to her. Her voice was hoarse and ugly but strong. “And you saw me sleep out in the cold and you watched me climb up that damned mountain and you never…” she struggled for the words. “I haven’t seen you in five years,” her vision blurred as fresh tears pooled in her eyes, “I thought you were dead. You abandoned me in that village and yet you knew exactly where I was going. You watched as Manami and her family were slaughtered, and everything burned,” her voice wavered and cracked, growing thick with emotion. “And only then you came to collect me.”

He stood and walked towards her with a liquid gait. She felt a blossom of fear in her chest, not the first since she had seen him huddled over her, and was bewildered by it. Even as a child she had never been afraid of Sesshoumaru—what had happened, who had changed? She sat up, bracing herself against the soft pillows as her head began to spin.

“Why do you keep on bringing me back from the dead?” Specks and sparks danced across her vision as the spinning in her head grew worse. Her breathing was ragged and wild. “What do you want with me?”

She saw something flash across his face as he lurched forward. Her head nodded backwards, overcome by the vertigo plaguing her. She felt him catch her as she tumbled, and then nothing, as she drifted again to sleep.

\---

She hadn’t spoken to him again since her accusations. He didn’t seem to mind, and she was too hurt and exhausted to dissolve her indignation. She mostly slept, waking long enough to gauge the passage of time as the sun rose and set and sent beams of light bouncing through the lush forest of their retreat. Once, when half-asleep, she felt something solid being wedged between her bandaged arm and her waist. When she woke she found that Sesshoumaru had left the glen, although the cheerful fire seemed to hint of his return. She glanced down to see a flask of water tucked beneath her elbow and drank from it hungrily.  Her thirst sated, she drifted again to sleep, trying to ignore the sear smoldering in the long muscle of her leg.

She woke later that evening to the meaty smell of something cooking over the fire. The aroma brought her stomach to life as she realized she was desperately hungry. She watched Sesshoumaru as he bent over the flame, stirring something in a broad black pot. _He’s cooking,_ she realized, and the shock of it was quickly doubled as she watched him ladle a steaming spoonful into a pretty ceramic bowl. She sat up, slowly this time, carefully slipping a pillow behind her back. He stalked over, busying himself with a gentle stirring of the soup in the bowl, and crouched silently at her side. Her cheeks flamed as he blew lightly on a spoonful and then brought it up to her in an offering. She took the spoon meekly in her mouth, her eyes watering from the rich, complex flavor of the bouillon.  She thought she saw the very start of a smile on his lips as she glanced up at him, eager for another spoonful. He fed her gently, silently, dutifully. At one point he tipped the spoon too quickly and was swift to catch a stray drip from her lips with the flat plane of his thumb. She couldn’t meet his eyes after that, too embarrassed by the intimacy of his fingers, but still he fed her until the bowl was empty.

She slept deeply that night and then into the following day, her body hungrily funneling the nourishment of the broth towards the daunting task of healing the various cuts and burns and bruises that covered her body. She knew the worst of it was the mysterious puncture on her thigh, which sapped her energy and made her head spin with every movement. Still, as the days passed she felt her strength beginning to return.

She and Sesshoumaru continued their silent routine, each day finding a new dish that he’d create and feed her. She no longer had the courage to look him in the face but would watch his hands as he played the earnest role of nursemaid. She was drawn to his long elegant fingers, the exotic magenta markings on the tops of his broad hands. She watched as the sunlight flashed off of his sharp nails, thicker than her own, and hooked at the edges in cruel points. It seemed strange to see them so close, to watch them close around the delicate bone handle of the spoon.

His sleeves would slide down to his elbows as he worked and she could see the muscles of his forearms move just under his pale skin. Even at rest he seemed coiled and ready to lash out; the air around him buzzed with electricity. Everything seemed strange and new to her, as if she’d been oblivious to the powerful air that must have surrounded him as much in the past as it did now. A sense of fear was ever-present in her breast and she wondered if he sensed it; she felt conflicted, ashamed that she feared him but still furious that he’d let the peasant family die.

“I need to look at your leg,” he said one afternoon, the first voice she’d heard in days. She looked over at him, breaking her watch of a small bird preening itself nearby, and was confused at what he meant. He walked over to her and nodded at her covered body. She faltered, unsure of what to do.

“Rin,” he insisted with a stern tone. She nodded and looked away, her face hot. She heard him approach her and kneel at her side. He carefully folded back the edge of the heavy fur and the felted blanket below. She bit her scabbed lip, tasting copper on her tongue, and felt a cold rush of air when he rolled the hem of her kimono high up on her thigh. A thin whine escaped her lips as a bandage was pulled off, seeming to take her skin with it, and she no longer had the fortitude to look away. She peeked down over the bunched blankets to look at her leg and groaned aloud at the sight.

Two black sores sat on the curve of her thigh, wet and open. She could see the shape of her veins down to her ankle, traced in ugly purple webs under her yellowed skin. Her entire leg was covered in a dark bruise, and her thigh haloed in what seemed to be nothing but decay.

“It’s alright,” she heard him reassure her. He wrung out a rag at his feet, gently dabbing at the wounds. She gritted her teeth at the slightest pressure, her eyes wide as she watched the rag grow black and bloody.  He moved quickly, grabbing a squat jar and scooping up a thick white cream in his fingers. He looked up at her, his eyes catching her own, and she saw something tender hidden there. “This is the last of it,” he promised, and held down her leg firmly with his free hand. She understood why as he dabbed the poultice over the punctures; she could hear her skin sizzle as it was applied. It felt as though he’d thrown her into the fire. A sharp pain ricocheted from the soles of her feet to the center of her chest, making her head swim and her back arch. Her lungs hitched, unable to draw in breath, and her vision was quickly shuttered as she lost consciousness.

\---  

He was good on her promise. When she blinked herself awake again the bright pain in her leg had been transformed into a blunted throb. She woke to find the glen empty, although she’d been tucked in neatly with new pillows propping her lame leg high. A low table had been placed at her side and she saw a kettle waiting for her. Carefully, slowly, she edged herself over and poured a steaming stream from the kettle into the cup that accompanied it. She grabbed the cup by its delicate handle, which was made of a near-translucent porcelain fashioned in the weaving boughs of a leafy vine. She’d never seen anything like it before, with its rim dipped in gold and its sides carefully painted with a floral scene. It seemed wrong to bring it to her lips, but she did so any way, enjoying the warmth of the tea as it spread through her chest.

After she’d finished her drink she built up the courage to fold away her coverings to inspect her leg. She found it neatly bound with crisp white bandages, but the bare skin that surrounded it was pink and white where it had once been black and bloody. A breath of relief slipped through her lips as she gingerly touched the linen bindings. It was if the horrid wound she’d seen before had been a dream; she wondered how long she had been asleep.

She glanced around the glen, taking in the place she’d been installed for the first time now that her pain had been dampened. He must not have taken her far; she recognized the flora and fauna around her from the forest that circled Manami’s homestead. _Poor sweet creature,_ she lamented, a fresh wave of grief washing over her. She brushed her hair from her face, fiddling with the longer strands as she tried to redirect her thoughts.

She eyed the happy fire in the center of the small clearing, tall and healthy with huge branches half-charred at its center. She could make out a tall ebony chest sitting just beyond the warmth of the fire, its lid ajar enough to reveal a neat collection of pewter boxes and tiny silver jars inside. She was surprised to see that Sesshoumaru’s armor was next to it in a messy pile, the spikes of the chest plate half-buried in the snow. 

_Where does he go,_ she wondered as she looked around the empty space. She saw the skinned bodies of boar and deer hung high up in the canopy, well-preserved in the cold and out of reach of any predator that might have been interested, but close enough to serve her hunger when it reappeared. He wasn’t hunting, so where could he be? She decided it was pointless to try to guess. From when she’d known him he’d been impossible to slow down, as if he were a shark that’d die if it stopped swimming. Her resentment was curbed for a moment as she fully appreciated what it meant for him to stay and nurse her day after day. Still, her brow furrowed as the question repeated through her mind; _what did he want from her?_

Her energy ebbed and she found herself drifting to sleep again. She had just begun to rouse herself when she heard Sesshoumaru’s dampened footfalls making their way back to the site. She peaked out at him from under her lashes, eyes half-closed, and caught him stalking over to a large wooden tub of water. Her heartbeat quickened as she noticed blood on his hands and up beyond the cuffs of his sleeves. He broke the ice that had formed on the surface of the water and scrubbed himself over the tub. She shut her eyes fast as she saw him turn to look at her, and feigned sleep until it caught her in earnest.

_\---_

“Here,” he said curtly, holding out a straight branch with a curving crook fused at its head. She sat up, swinging her legs carefully over the edge of her cushions and reaching out to accept the offering. “You need to walk.” She looked at him, unconvinced, but was secretly thrilled to be able to escape the doldrums of her bed.

She stood up, too fast, and cried out as her bad leg crumpled beneath her. He grabbed her as she fell and she found herself face-first in the folded collar at his chest. She was overcome for a moment by the strong slow metronome of his heartbeat, the warm woodiness of his scent, before her face grew hot and burgundy. She pushed herself off at his shoulders and tottered, steadied by his hand at her waist.

“With the crook,” he insisted, nodding at the staff held fast and useless in her good hand. _Right._ She frowned, still blushing and furious at her clumsiness. She planted the crook firmly in the ground and tucked it under her shoulder. His hand fell away as she found her balance and, without changing his features, he stepped back to observe her. She felt a childish anger burning bright in her chest; _was he just going to watch her?_ She stepped a pace with her good leg, determined to show him that she was fine without him, and lurched forward with her staff and stiff leg in unison.

She continued her bandy-legged procession around the outer circle of the campsite, trying to ignore his gaze as he tracked her progress. She felt a sheen of sweat build on her brow from the effort, and the stiff muscles of her leg ached as they stretched, but she hid it all behind a slack expression. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction to know that she feeble and needed his care. She wasn’t sure why; did she want to shoo him away? Was she ashamed? She gritted her teeth and toddled on, unwilling to search herself to understand the conflict brewing deep in her chest.

\---

Rin’s exercises became another fixture in her daily regimen. She woke early with the sun, always to an empty clearing. She’d drink the tea Sesshoumaru had prepared her, nibble on some of the fruit he’d somehow procured, and stumble out to the woods to relieve herself behind the tallest bushes she could find. She’d then clean her hands and face from the freezing tub of water and, afterwards, sit at the edge of the cushions to rub at her stiff muscles like he’d told her to do. The snakebite had seemed to turn her muscles to stone, and it took a full day’s effort each day to break them down again. Mid-day she’d halt her exercises to eat something cold from the stores he’d provided, and finally as the sun set she’d welcome him home with a silent look. He’d return it, but not cruelly so, and set about cooking something for her to eat. She’d protested once, insisting she’d be able to fix something herself, but after fumbling with her one good hand over the fire and setting her sleeve alight he’d convinced her to let him carry on with his duties alone.

The fear would resurface, sometimes, when she saw him coming back. She’d watch the way his eyes would flash in the dimming light of the day and she’d see something predatory and hungry, angry, reflecting back at her. Each time it made her turn away, unsure of herself and doubled down in her insecurities. All the same his face would be blank, familiar, unassuming. He’d continue on serving her without appearing like a servant, surrounding her with fine foods and cutlery, in the strange fairy tale scene that had become her living quarters.

Finally, after days of painful stretches and awkward dinners, Rin rose feeling limber and energized. She drank the hot tea waiting for her quickly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, pleased to find that the scar at her lip had finally healed. She pulled on a coat from a pile of fine clothes he’d wrapped in an oiled cloth for her, fastening it clumsily with one hand. Tucking her crutch under her arm she set off in a straight line, summoning the courage to test her strength.

She made her way down an overgrown path, her breath a silvery cloud leading her forward. The forest was silent and muffled by the snow, which looked clean and pretty on each branch and rock and bush. It was thrilling to see new sights again. The stiffness in her leg was nothing compared to the pain she’d grown used to, and unburdened by it she felt light and free and even cheerful. She carefully maneuvered a dip in the path and trudged upwards again, tracking her steps to make sure she didn’t travel too far.

She came upon the farmer’s homestead by mistake, before she could correct her path. A cold chill sunk like a stone in her gut as she recognized the bare burned fields. Her heart beat fast as her breath caught in her throat— _no, no, --_ but, she was compelled to continue her approach. _Were they buried?_ She couldn’t help but wonder, horrified. She’d have to bury them if they were still here, somewhere, bare against the snow. She wasn’t sure she could handle the shock of seeing their pitiful bodies but she also knew she’d never forgive herself if she turned back now.

“Rin-sama!” The call was light and cheerful, girlish, thrilled. She spun on her heel, wincing at the turn of her leg, her eyes wide. A little girl looked back at her, appearing just as shocked but pleased in place of Rin’s bewilderment. A young cat meowed unhappily in the girl’s arms, awkwardly held under its arms with its pink belly exposed to the cold wind of the day.

“M-Manami!” The little girl rushed forward, wrapping her arms about the woman’s waist as she buried her face into her stomach.

“You’re back!” Manami cried into Rin’s robes. Rin stared down, dumbfounded, her bandaged hand resting on the crown of the girl’s head. She was not ghost; she could feel the warmth of her against her, could see each strand of her messy hair. _Alive._

“Are you okay?” Manami yelped, looking up at Rin and looking suddenly and dramatically concerned. Rin had seen her reflection in the tub at the campsite, she wasn’t surprised; her throat was still purple with bruises and littered with thin scabs. Her hair had been brushed into a bun high on her head, although she couldn’t remember when, but she hadn’t paid much mind to it since—she was sure it was a mess. And then there was her limping, her hand…

“Y-yes,” she managed, looking down into the girl’s concerned face. “Yes, I am fine. How… Are you alright? And your family?”

The little girl smiled. “Yes, the forest spirit saved us!”

“The…?” She couldn’t finish, tongue-tied in confusion. For a moment she had thought perhaps it had all been a fever dream but here she had confirmed it—something had happened, just as she remembered. _What forest spirit_?

“Did he save you too?” Manami babbled on. “Mother always said that we had to respect the forest spirits and give them buns on the holidays, and on our birthdays, and I guess they liked them, because he came and helped us! Although Mother also said that they didn’t like cats and he brought me Momo-chan so I don’t know.”

“Momo-chan?” Rin echoed. Manami held up the cat in her arms, who mewled pitifully, desperate to escape from her embrace and continue its hunt of mice and chipmunks. Rin recognized its orange-furred face.

“Manami,” she began, chewing her lip. “What forest spirit helped you?” The little girl shrugged, releasing the cat. Momo darted away but it seemed he’d be back again.

“Father said it was a boy spirit, but he was pretty, so I don’t know. He came right after the bad men showed up,” she frowned theatrically, “after they hit me and I fell asleep. When I woke up he was there, and so were Mother and Father. He brought father a big bag of things—oh Rin-sama, look!” She pointed down suddenly at her feet. “He brought me these shoes! Aren’t they pretty? They’re very warm, not like the others. Sister Nanako likes mine better than hers but she can’t have them. Anyway they wouldn’t fit her, because she has big boy’s feet.”  

“I see,” Rin replied, smiling unsteadily at the girl.

“But,” Manami continued on, screwing up her tiny face in a thoughtful look, “I saw the spirit again when he brought Father the things for the house. He must have been as tall as…as at least ten of me!” She gestured wildly, holding her thin arms up to the sky. “And he had long, long white hair that wasn’t in a knot like the men in the village. I guess that’s how I knew he was a spirit.” She nodded, deciding that was the reason. “Also he had a… a thing here,” she pointed at her forehead. “That looked like the moon, sometimes.”

Rin swallowed hard, her mind racing.

“Ah, I… I see…” She stuttered, looking away from the girl’s cheerful face. She tried to arrange her thoughts and was interrupted by a second voice.

“Lady Rin!” Ichiro appeared in the clearing, balancing a saw across his shoulder. He jogged forward, taking place next to his daughter. “Thank the gods that you’re alright.” She nodded, tears in her eyes.

“Ichiro-san, it is such a relief to see you.”

“I think we ought to have a talk.”

\---

Rin was dazed by what she found in the clearing. There, sitting adopt a charred circle, sat a newly-built home with timbers still leaking sap. The windows still needed to be papered and the roof was rough, but it was watertight and it was a home. Ichiro led her inside, where Suzumi sat weaving a basket from a flat pile of reeds.

“You’re all alright,” Rin breathed in a half-whisper, afraid she’d jinx the moment. Suzumi smiled and nodded, blushing slightly from the madness of it all.

“It’s a miracle,” Ichiro replied, gesturing towards her to approach. He helped her sink to the ground, her leg extended across the hard-packed earth. He sat across the hearth from her, cross-legged, reading her face to see what she knew.

“Manami told you that the forest spirits came to our aid,” he began. Rin nodded, unsure of what to say. Her heart was racing and her mind was a blur as she tried to understand what it meant and what they had figured out themselves.

“I told you that there were a few youkai here, in the woods,” Ichiro continued, brushing sawdust from his knees. “Sometimes they come with the faces of badgers or magpies, horrible half-formed things. They gnash their teeth and scare the children but they’ve never caused us much worry. This creature, this spirit, was different.” He paused to watch her face. She glanced down at the ground, chewing on her lip. Her mouth was dry.

“I saw him, before the bandits struck me down. He was horrible to look upon; it was clear his power was unmatched and untethered. And yet when I came to find myself alive he was the one who pulled me to my feet. He plucked each of my children from the grave and my wife as well. But when I searched for you, you were gone.”

“I-“

“You know this youkai.”

“I do.”

“You accompany him now.”

“I do.”

 Ichiro sighed, looking down at his rough hands as he rubbed his palms together.

“I’m so very happy you’ve come. I wanted you to see that we lived and thrived. I ached to think you would live bearing guilt you didn’t deserve.”

“Ich-“

“I want you to see something else, if you can walk just a bit farther from here. You can lean on me, if you’d like.” He looked up at here, catching her gaze _It’s important_ , his eyes demanded. She felt herself nod.

\---

The walk was short but she was thankful that Ichiro offered her his arm. Her leg had begun to ache and she had yet to steady her heart’s rapid tempo. _Why had he saved them? How had he known to give them the bag of goods, the kitten, and why had he done it? What was in it for him?_

“Here, just past this tree line,” Ichiro announced. She broke away from her thoughts and wrinkled her nose, taking notice of a foul smell in the air. She looked over at him and caught a perplexing look on his face.

“What is it?” She asked, her voice taking on a flat tone.

“It’s safe,” he insisted, resting his hand on hers and offering her a reassuring look. “You can trust me.” She nodded her head and stepped forward, ducking under a thick branch to step into a hooded clearing beyond.

The abattoir within made her eyes water and her breath stop fast. It had been a camp, once, a large one, but now… she leaned into Ichiro, suddenly unsteady.

“I found this the day after I was brought back to life.” He mumbled, keeping his eyes locked on hers. She couldn’t keep her own eyes still—they danced from corpse to corpse, human, horse, beast. At least a hundred of them all together, pierced upon staves and broken across the ground. The cold had kept the flies away and many looked as though they were all but alive, suspended in the frost. Each, however, was a horrific study in dissection. They had been pulled apart, tortured.

“The bandits,” Rin breathed, catching sight of a fat skinned snake at the center of the mire.

“Each and every one,” Ichiro confirmed. “I spoke to the village elder—they’re all gone. The youngest recruit, the leader himself. All torn to pieces here.”

Rin stepped forward a pace, transfixed by the scene. Her stomach lurched as she inspected the body of a man drawn upon a flat-faced stone. She noticed something, her eyes dancing over the others to confirm it.

“They… they all have their left hand…”

“Crushed. Their necks flayed. Their legs…” There wasn’t an adequate word for what had happened to them. Each and every man displayed the same exaggeration of the wounds she bore.

“It was him,” she murmured. She felt Ichiro nod in confirmation. He’d slaughtered them with wanton violence, but before he’d hurt them in all the ways they’d hurt her. It wasn’t like him—he’d always been so efficient, apathetic. She knew him to be a solider, even a killer, but nothing like this.  

“He isn’t a man,” Ichiro began, lightly gripping her shoulders. “He doesn’t think the way we do. He doesn’t feel the way we do. I owe my life to him, and would gladly give it back to honor him for saving my children. All the same you must see, you must _understand_ exactly what he is capable of before you decide what you’ll do with this life he’s given you. Do not imagine him to be something he is not; you will not change him, you will not soften him. You will be letting a tempest into your heart; do not mistaken it for a spring shower.”   

She looked up into the man’s earnest face, torn on how to respond. She knew he was right, and she was frustrated by it; of course she knew, she’d felt that ancient fear budding in her chest when she’d seen him. _Predator, run,_ her deepest instincts begged. But then…

“I have to go,” she snapped.

“Rin, I—“

“Thank you, Ichiro. Thank you for showing me. Thank you for worrying about me,” Rin took his hand in her own and squeezed it. “You’re right. I understand. But I have to go.” He studied her for a moment before letting loose a deep sigh.

“Alright.”

\---

She left Ichiro behind at his home, giving him a hug and each member of his family one in turn. She held Manami tightest of all, whispering to her that she’d return one day and would want to learn all about the adventures she’d had in the meantime. The little girl beamed and sent her off with a wide smile, waving Momo’s paw at her in a goodbye.   

She hobbled stiffly down the path back towards the glen. By now the crook dug painfully into the tender skin under her arm, and her leg felt tight and painful. She shouldn’t have walked so far, she supposed, but she had needed to. Thank the gods she had.

“Rin.” A tall sentinel stood ahead on the path. He’d come to find her. She was sure he could hear her heart beating fast and smell the corpses on her. _He saved them. He helped them rebuild their home. He killed_ them _all and punished them for what they did to me. He made them pay for what they did to me._ Her head was spinning from the thrill of it. She strode forward, as fast as she could, barely balanced. _He tore them apart. For me. He hated them. For me._

As she came closer she saw that same look on his face as before—he looked tired, ashamed. Surprised. Each one betrayed his reputation. She felt something akin to hunger deep within her, strong and demanding. He closed the distance between them, his body stiff, unsure of how to meet her. She took a final step and flung the crutch aside, trusting him to catch her as she stumbled forward. He did. She wrapped her arms around him and drew her body up to the tips of her toes. She felt the ten sharp points of his fingers on her back as she leaned in and pressed her lips against his own.


	6. A Pledge

Rin sat in the empty campsite, hugging her shoulders and willing the dying fire to stay alight. The sun had set and cast the forest in a cold twilight. The space within her breast felt colder still as she ran each minute of the past few hours through her mind. Again. What had she done?   

It had been bold to kiss Sesshoumaru. She had even dared to feel the sharp edges of his teeth with her tongue, but he hadn’t protested. She had felt the tightness in his shoulders dissolve, and how one of his hands had strayed to cup the back of her head. But then he’d pushed her back, gently but just so, his face hidden beneath his perfected mask. He’d turned on his heels and left, not running, but fast. He was gone; she knew it. That peculiar feeling she’d been carrying since she’d left Kagome had disappeared and for the first time she fully appreciated the fact that she was alone.

She tugged the fur of her blankets tighter around her shoulders, leaning back into the black chest she’d drug to the fireside. She’d been feeding the fire as well as she could, but everything around her was damp from the snow. She supposed it was nearing spring; the afternoon had warmed enough to begin to melt it all. Now everything was wet and brown and icy, a neat match to her mood.

Had she displeased him? Disgusted him? Perhaps it was just as she had always feared, deep in her gut; she was just another possession for him, stored away in the warehouse of Inuyasha’s village like a pretty vase. He’d strike down whomever dared to besmirch her but perhaps it wasn’t out of love or even pity. _Another fantasy,_ she though morosely, _another castle in the sky._

She let a throaty groan slip through her slips as she turned to rub at her leg, outstretched awkwardly at her side. It had been a torture to walk alone back to the campsite. She prayed her adventure hadn’t undone all the careful work to tease her muscles back to life.  

 _Right,_ she gritted her teeth. _I’m not going to just fall apart and die._ She turned at the waist to carefully lift the lid of the chest at her back. She groped into its depths, pulling out a thick linen roll. Her bandages were loose and dirty; she’d known a number of stubborn patients to be thrown back into a fever from the state she was in. She started with her hand, fumbling with the edges of the wrapped splint and peeling them away. She unwound the bandages methodically, revealing the smooth wooden plank that held her palm straight. She plucked it away, laying it neatly on the chest before tenderly testing her grip. It had healed well but was still weak and sore. She held it up to the fire, warming the frozen tips of her fingers before binding them up again.

Her leg came next. The snakebite had all but disappeared, leaving behind two tiny purple pricks that still refused to close. She dabbed at the punctures with the clean end of the roll of linen, a breath of air hissing through her clenched teeth. Two drops of blood beaded fresh at the wounds, trembling there for a moment before dripping down the side of her thigh. Her eyes glanced to glowing embers of the fire.

Sesshoumaru had saved her life, but he wasn’t a healer. Perhaps even he didn’t have the stomach to do all that was necessary. She did. She moved quickly, before she lost her nerve, grabbing a metal spoon from the chest and winding its handle in a thick cloth. She inched closer to the fire, thrusting the spoon into its middling heart. The metal began to smolder and then grow red. She waited until it glowed as hot and bright as the flames before drawing it out and, in the same swift motion, pressed its bowed bottom against the raw spot on her thigh. A low cry escaped her, echoing across the glen, and the smell of her flesh cooking against the searing metal made her stomach churn.

All the same, it was done. She threw the spoon away; it landed to sizzle a second hole into the snow a dozen paces away. A curl of smoke drifted away from the red welt that had replaced the bite’s two neat circles. _Good,_ she thought, her chest heaving as she slowed her breath. She gingerly covered her leg again and leaned back heavily, letting her head nod against the box behind her. She watched her breath cloud in front of her eyes and then disappear, the dark winding branches above her head peeking through in pace with her breathing.

What would she do now? Where would she go? Perhaps she could stay with Manami’s family for a while, just like she had planned. She hesitated at the thought, guilt pressing heavy and painful against her heart—to do what, lure misfortune towards them once again? She’d given them new shoes and a kitten in exchange for nightmarish memories and a barren field. It wasn’t right. She would have to keep going, keep walking, and now she’d have to drag herself along.

Her eyes blurred with self-pity; what was she going to do? She let herself cry, indulging herself in her tears as the fear and uncertainty and shame of her ill-fated journey finally surfaced to match the burning pain in her leg. She had been so stupid to think that she could set out from the safety of Kagome’s village with no destination and nothing on her back but a thin kimono and a bag full of trifles.  She had been mocked in the village for turning each year older unmarried and alone, but she felt young and foolish now. How naïve she had been to leave, with the half-hidden hope of finding Sesshoumaru along the way! She had seen him for what he was; his dripping claws, his beast’s eyes, his blank face. Her embarrassment from being stilted had already perverted her memory of him, replacing each quick-lived moment of tenderness with the empty stare he’d shown her as he left. The same question raged in her mind, loud and demanding; what did he want from her?

 _What did it matter now?_ He’d left her again, _again,_ and this time she was nothing but a cripple with nowhere to go. Since the day she’d met him he’d lured her from one threatening place to the next, and she’d followed him without question. She’d built her life around a phantom hope and now she was confronted by the cold reality that she had nothing to show for it other than the miracle of keeping alive.  It was hopeless.

She rubbed hard at her eyes, her shoulders hitching with sobs. She heard herself hiccup like a child in a tantrum. Leaning forward, she snatched a large pillow and hugging it to her chest. She rested her chin along its embroidered edge and stared listlessly into the fire. She focused on its hot yellow center, transfixed. Her eyes crossed as she tried to make shapes out in the crackling flames. There, a bird; a horse; the branches of a tree; the striding form of a man. She shut her eyes, tracing her fingertips in small circles across the soft skin of her puffy eyelids. _Tired._ She kept them closed for a few moments longer, feeling herself sink into an apathetic exhaustion.

When she looked up again he was there, kneeling with his head bowed, the fire between them.

\---   

“What do you want?” She demanded, her voice sharp. She couldn’t help it. Anger sparked deep within her for how quickly he had left and how quickly he had returned; had he heard her cry and slunk back in his guilt? He was too slow to cover his surprise at her tone. That hadn’t been what he expected, she surmised.

“What do you want with me?” She insisted. She tossed the pillow away, scrambling to stand. He stood at once, his body tensed but staying in its place. Rin willed the strength to hide a grimace as she braced some of her weight on her trembling leg.

“Rin—“

“Tell me!” She saw the anger she felt flash across his face as well. He made to speak, his lips drawn up in a snarl, but caught himself. He paused for a moment and his features settled.

“You asked me why I continue to bring you back to life,” he began, his voice slow and calm, “I do it because I am afraid. When you died a second time I found myself to be terrified. It was something I had never felt before. I did not understand it; at first, I thought I was ashamed that I was unable to protect something as simple as a mortal child. Even when you returned I fumbled with my task, and I decided surely this was the reason. I sent you to the village because I knew you would be safe; all the same I watched over you. You were free from harm, but my fear remained.

I then believed myself to be afraid because I was ashamed to have inherited my father’s empathy. It is true that I coddled you; it was my father’s weakness, alive again. So I left. You were safe, and no longer could anyone speak about my queer visits to a mortal girl. Still, my fear remained. When you abandoned the village I had no choice but to follow you. I had to understand the part you played in belittling me.

I saw it first when you held the mountain spirit in your arms and carried him across the cliff side; I saw it again when you gave everything you owned to that peasant family, things you had carried even as your strength had waned. I fear the goodness in you, Rin. I fear it because I know your kindness is all I will ever know, and it is precious and fleeting and fragile. When those foul bastards laid their hands on you,” his voice quickened, just slightly, just enough to notice, deepening into a growl, “I understood it fully for the first time. I knew if you died, this third and final time, I would follow you. I would destroy this blighted place, burn it all until it was as barren and lifeless as the moon… and then I would die.”

Rin sank to sit on the lid of the chest, her hands planted firmly at her sides. She felt her body tremble with an electricity that was half excitement and half revulsion. Each one of his words foretold the danger of his fear, like a caged beast tempted with the opportunity of an unarmed man. From the mouth of another it would have been a hollow pledge, a cheap and insincere affirmation, but from Sesshoumaru, who had spoken as many words to her now as he had since she had first come to know him, it was an unsettling promise.

“Sesshoumaru…” she managed finally, his honorific lost. “I don’t understand. Why did you leave me after...”? She stuttered, unable to finish the question. He stepped forward a pace before stopping himself, a strange look on his face.

“I’ve put you in an impossible position,” he replied in a half-whisper. “I’ve placed you in my debt without giving you the option to turn it down. I will not allow you to pay for your life with your body!”

“Sesshomaru!” Rin yelped, her face hot and red. “T-that is not—“

“You fear me,” he cut her off with a low, rumbling voice. She felt her mouth go dry as he stared her down. His eyes glinted in the low firelight. _So he knew._ The rest of his accusation was unspoken but clear.

“Yes,” she managed finally, “I do. But I would be a fool not to! I know what you are, Sesshoumaru. Even now you stand before me hiding your true self, but I have seen it before. You have to understand, I… I don’t care that I am afraid!” She felt her face burn as she let herself speak plainly. “I helped the man on the mountain because I wanted to; I didn’t want him to die. I gave my things to Manami because I _wanted_ to. I owed them nothing more than what I had already given them. I want you because I want you! I am afraid of the beast within you, but I want him too! I am not your thrall, and I am not a coward; you may reject me, but the choice is mine to make!” She beat her chest at her last few words, her heart thudding fast with a mixture of frustration and the thrill of something else she couldn’t quite define.

She jumped as he strode, unflinching, through the fire. He stood before her, trapping her against the chest; she stared up at him defiantly. It was as if, for the first time, she saw his face naked of any pretension. He was young, she realized, startled; despite the severity and affectation of his tone she saw a new and unmistakable youthfulness in his smooth skin and fresh features.

 _He’s like a child,_ a ghost of Kagome’s voice whispered in her ear, a memory from years ago. She sounded exasperated. _Inuyasha has lived for at least a hundred years but he’s no better than a teenage boy!_ Once Kagome had calmed down from whatever snide comment Inuyasha had made she had explained herself more fully to Rin, just a child herself at the time. _Youkai age differently than we do, Rin-chan, even hanyou. It’s like time passes differently for them. I would guess, if we could make everything equal, that Inuyasha and I are nearly the same age._ How much older was Sesshoumaru than his little brother, she wondered? How many years did he try to mime by clouding his features with sneers and frowns? _He tries to act as if he knows everything_ , she realized, _but he’s just as lost as I am_.

“Do you mean what you say?” He asked her, his voice different; quiet, unsure. She saw something flash across his face as he slowly brought his hand up to hers. She felt the cold points of his nails first and then the heat of his palm as he cupped her cheek. She shut her eyes and leaned in to his touch. The weight of her answer was suddenly clear. If she said no he’d let her go; her next steps could be one of a million options, each free for her to choose. He might even give her his wealth, meaningless to him, so that she could live comfortably. If she said no he could harden his heart and shed the last breach to his defenses. He would be unstoppable.  

If she said yes she would never be able to leave him, even in his darkest moments, even if he were true to his word to turn the world to cinders. He was not a bad man, but he was not a good one either. She had known him to do ugly things and his capacity for kindness was still unclear. He, in turn, would be cursed with an insatiable compulsion to listen for each beat of her heart, knowing it’d come a to stop while he was still in the springtime of his own life. If she said yes she’d condemn them both to a certain future: that someday, perhaps not soon but not too distant, they’d come to love each other in a painful and desperate way. Two moths to a flame.

Rin opened her eyes and looked up at him. He towered over her, each part of him seeming twice as large as her and twice as wide. She saw the monster in him, cruel and unyielding; she saw the lord, cold and uncaring; she saw the man in him, hidden deep, vulnerable and shy. All three were linked by the same thing, intangible but clear. It was a charm, a spirit, and she felt it too. It made her heart beat fast and her mind race. It compelled her to strike out at him and to stroke him in the same measure. All three parts of Sesshoumaru were enchanted by this desire for her, and she desperately desired them as well.  

“Yes, I do.”

\---

Inuyasha was in a terrible mood. Once again he was bewildered by Kagome’s good nature, and unsurprised that it had led them into another unpleasant situation. Why couldn’t she just mind her own business? Of course, he supposed, her generosity was one of the things he loved most about her; but dammit, it caused a lot of trouble for him, too.

He sat across the fire from Rin’s dour handmaiden, who was efficiently ignoring him as she mended the plates of her lady’s armor. _Handmaiden_ wasn’t the right word, he supposed; he could sense that she was powerful. In fact, there was something unshakably familiar about her. He reckoned it had to do with the sharp scents of aggression and dominance that haloed her, as well as the lingering stink of the blood shed by those that had tried to challenge her. Inuyasha wrinkled his nose and frowned; Rin certainly had a type.

The women had returned from the spring a good time earlier, freshly scrubbed but tired. The tension between Kagome and Rin had dissipated and a new kindred spirit seemed to have been sparked between them. That was all well and good, he supposed, but when she had cleared a space for Rin’s bedroll in the center of their hut it had taken even ounce of his self-control to stop himself from protesting. He’d stomped out into the open field in a huff once Akio and Goro, the mongrels from her pack, had slunk in to nestle themselves around her as she fell to sleep. His own house! He wouldn’t be surprised if they pissed in it next! And even then Yanmei had had the audacity to join him outside to begin her nightly duties—which he suspected was, in truth, her surveillance of him. He felt his chest puff up slightly; well, he was the strongest man to be found in any direction, so he supposed he was the greatest threat. As if she could do anything to stop him!

“You are Sesshoumaru-sama’s bastard brother, correct?”

 “What!” He snarled, launching to his feet. She looked up at him, unmoved, her fingers still busy with their intricate work. “Watch what you say, bitch!”

“You’re nothing like him,” she replied, looking down at the armor again. There was a hint of a grin on her lips. “Not even his looks. That must have been disappointing for you.”

“What did you say?” Inuyasha growled, clenching his fists. Kagome would be furious if he pummeled one of their guests, but he was beginning to think it would be worth it. “I thank the fates every day that I’m nothing like that piece of shit! The only thing I’m disappointed about is that I never killed him when I had the chance!”

Yanmei’s laughter echoed across the empty field, lightly and girlish. It made him uneasy, more than anything, to hear such an innocent sound coming from this dangerous siren of a woman. He gritted his teeth as Kagome’s voice played back in his mind; _be the bigger man for once, Inuyasha! You have to grow up, you’re a father now!_

“You aren’t very good at making friends,” he managed finally, glowering at the woman as he took a seat again. She rolled her eyes.

“Do you really not know who I am?” She asked, setting the armor aside. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked at her, unsure of what she meant. Sure, an inuyoukai with a blue crest on their brow was familiar, but he was certain he’d never seen this harpy before in his life. He pursed his lips to tell her as much, but was distracted by a sudden sharp pinch on his neck.

“Yow!” He slapped at the spot and looked down at his palm in surprise to find a tiny figure crushed there. “M-Myoga!”

“H-hello Inuyasha,” came the old youkai’s muffled reply as he struggled to his feet. Hardy as ever, Inuyasha observed with bemusement. It had been a long time since he’d seen the cowardly flea. What did he want? Why couldn’t they all just leave him alone?!

“Where’s your brother?” Myoga harped, as if reading Inuyasha’s mind.

“What!” Inuyasha felt a fresh wave of anger rush over him. “Why can’t any of you idiots understand that I. Don’t. Give. A. Damn. About. Sesshoumaru?” Myoga pinged off of Inuyasha’s palm before he had a chance to crush him again.

“Where is he?” He repeated, his tiny body bouncing around the dimly-lit grass. “It is very important that I speak with him!”

“How the hell should I know?”  

 “What do you mean? I smell him here!” Inuyasha could make out Myoga’s miniscule hand proudly tapping his equally small snout. “Did you really think you could hide him from me?” Inuyasha saw Yanmei stand out of the corner of his eye but ignored her.

“As if I would help Sesshoumaru! Dammit, Myoga, he’s not here. I haven’t seen him for years.” The flea paused for a moment, his face serious as he sniffed out the space around him. A sudden gleeful look crumpled up his features and he took off towards the hut.

“Old man!” Yanmei yelped, dashing after him. Inuyasha followed suit, furious that yet another visitor had wrecked his evening. Now he’d wake the children and Kagome would blame _him_ for it!

“Ha!”  He heard Myoga yell in triumph. The smack of skin-on-skin came next and, as Inuyasha came into the room, a sleepy noise of confusion. Akio and Goro stopped Inuyasha in his tracks, baring their teeth and growling.

“Oh, come on!” Inuyasha snapped. The last thing he wanted to do was fight the dogs in the presence of all of the children in the room, but they weren’t giving him many options.

“What?” Myoga’s perplexed yelp caught Inuyasha’s attention. He looked past the raised haunches of the hounds to catch sight of the flea perched on Rin’s knee. Sitting up in her bedclothes, Rin looked down at the little youkai, looking equally confused. “But how?” the old man stuttered.

“Myoga-jiji?” Rin mumbled, her voice hoarse with sleep as she rubbed the spot he’d bitten on her neck. Yanmei hovered over her protectively, a bleary-eyed Masakage in her arms. Inuyasha could tell the inuyoukai was furious—but also fearful.

 “What are you doing here?”

“Rin,” Myoga replied in a firm tone, “How is it that Sesshoumaru’s blood flows in your veins? Where is he? What have you done?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up! Not to worry though, I'm still busily writing away. Thanks again for all of your comments and reactions-- I love reading them! Cheers!


	7. Blood for Blood

“I don’t know what you mean,” Rin began. Her voice was uneasy. Kagome stood from her bed, pulling her arms through a wrinkled kosode from the low shelf along the wall. She made to walk towards the younger woman but was stopped short by Yanmei’s throaty growl. Kagome’s eyes danced between the youkai’s cold stare and the fidgeting infant in her arms. If Myoga was seeking out Sesshoumaru’s blood, shouldn’t he have gone for the babe instead? _Unless Inuyasha was right…_ Could it be true that this crescent-moon child was not his son?  

“I have known Sesshoumaru since he was a babe, do you think I can’t recognize his blood?” Myoga proclaimed. “What has happened? What have you done? Where is he?” Akio and Goro began to growl again, the rolling noise an unending, jarring hum. Rin began to stand but stopped just as suddenly, transfixed in a half-crouch. Her back braced, the muscles in her shoulders showing through her thin cotton robe.

“Rin-sama!” Yanmei breathed, her voice sharp. Kagome watched as Rin struggled to keep her face flat, the tiny veins at her temples pulsing. She sat down again, her hand pressing against her heart. She looked up into Yanmei’s face; Kagome was startled by the fear she saw flashing in her chestnut-colored eyes.

“Quiet!” Rin hissed. Her bleary gaze had transformed into a hard, cold stare. Kagome saw Myoga tremble. “Listen. Listen well.”

\---

Rin watched quietly as Sesshoumaru rebuilt the fire. He made quick work of stacking thick rounds of fresh firewood into a pyramid atop the grey ash. He crouched to stoke the dying embers awake again, the silk at his shoulders stretched taut as he drew in a deep breath. He retreated as the lumber began to smolder and crackle, stalking back into the woods to return with another armful of tinder. Soon the fire was larger than it had been before. It cast a cheery glow across the glen and made her skin hot to the touch. Her heart flipped in her chest to know that the cold didn’t bother Sesshoumaru, and all the same he’d built an inferno.

After he’d finished he stood to admire his work, his back still towards her. She looked at him unapologetically, noting the charred edges of his robes from when he’d trod through the flames to greet her earlier. She chewed at her bottom lip as she considered the memory; she’d never seen a look like he had given her at just the moment she’d revealed her feelings. She swore she’d even seen his high cheeks flush, perhaps just slightly, as he pulled her to his chest. She had felt the warmth of his breath on the crown of her head and had been deafened by the rush of blood pounding in her ears and the strong steady metronome of his heartbeat. Her head had swum as he hugged her tight and her body had burned with the heat of his own—until, just as quickly, he had stepped back and the cold night air had rushed in to return. She’d then noticed that she was trembling, and he must have as well, as he had turned on his heels to begin to rebuild the fire. She was bewildered by all of it but, as she watched him work, was also emboldened by the fact that the shame he’d been hiding behind his staid features had been replaced by a look of ease.

_This is what he wanted,_ she reasoned, watching the long strands of his hair tangle in the evening breeze.

“Are you cold?” He asked, turning to face her. She glanced down, embarrassed that she’d been caught staring. She shook her head and heard his quiet huff of approval in reply. He began to walk towards her; she fumbled with the sleeves of her robes, suddenly unsure of what to do with her body.  

“What did you do to yourself?” He asked, crouching to level himself with her sitting figure. She smiled at the sound of his voice; it was tepid and even, but the disinterested tone that generally accompanied his words had gone. She looked up to meet his eyes, and watched as he nodded at her leg.

_Oh._

“I had to close the wounds,” she began, “or they could have become worse. Infected,” she remembered the word, “Kagome instructed me to do so.” His head dipped in the slightest of nods.

“Does it hurt?”

She supposed it did, but everything hurt.

“Not really.”

“You should rest,” he replied, standing. Rin’s brow crumped in frustration. How could she sleep, now? She had finally lured Sesshoumaru into speaking, but he seemed anxious to slip back into his regular routine.

“No,” she chirped back. She saw his eyes crinkle into the forewarning of a smile. She cleared her throat. “I’ve done nothing but rest for days. Speak with me for a moment.” She didn’t expect him to comply. Perhaps it was the sweetness of her voice, or the defiance that lay just below it; whatever the reason, she was surprised to watch him take a seat next to her on the pile of furs. She balled her fists in her lap, peeking out of the corner of her eye at him as she planned her next retort. He returned her stare, nonplussed, patiently waiting.

_Do you love me?_ , she wondered, _Do I love you? What will we do next? Where will we go? What will I be to you, what will you call me? What should I do? What will you do?_

“I…How… How did you know what to do, with…?” She managed lamely, gesturing at her leg.

“I sought out an old crone with a mind for these sorts of things. She gave me everything that was needed.”

Rin imagined Sesshoumaru bartering for the black medicine chest and couldn’t imagine the crone had come out at the better end of the bargain. His lips twitched into a flat smile as he read her face.

“She has taken on Jaken as payment for my debt.”

“Jaken!” Rin cried out in alarm, turning to face Sesshoumaru fully. “He must have been furious! Is he alright? What will she do with him?”

“Jaken will do as he is told,” Sesshoumaru replied in a flat tone. A branch crumpled nosily in the fire. The finger of flame that leapt forth in its place made his eyes flash. She saw his sharp-edged pupils narrow as the light flooded his face. She looked away, unnerved by this tell-tale mark of his otherworldliness and by the reminder of his apathy towards most things.

Her shoulders jumped as he turned her face back towards him, his fingers at her chin. 

“Your fear does not become you,” he told her, his voice quiet and not unkind.  She saw a look of amusement pass across his face as her wariness was burned away by aggravation.

“I’m not afraid!” The urge to strike him returned. There was a separate emotion as well, a tickling feeling in her chest as she realized he was toying with her.

“We can collect Jaken if it would please you,” he replied, sounding unconvinced. His hand dropped from her face and planted itself at her side. She felt the air buzzing around him as he lounged there, a finger’s distance from her. She wondered if he had ever sat like this before with anyone else. He seemed relaxed and even unrefined, a world’s difference from when she had observed him stalking about their camps with his toady servant at his heels.

“Where is he?” She queried, fighting the urge to look away. _I’m not afraid,_ she challenged silently. It was true, for the most part, but she also didn’t have the courage to name the truth of what she was feeling.

“A fortnight southwest of here by foot,” he said after a moment’s thought.

“By foot?” She echoed aloud despite herself. When had Sesshoumaru traveled _by_ _foot?_

“You must keep moving or the venom will settle and cripple you,” he replied matter-of-factly. “Just for a time,” he added when he saw her face fall. “Once you’ve fully healed this ordeal will be over.”

She felt her eyes water at the prospect of two weeks’ worth of walking. All the same she supposed he was right. She felt she owed it to Jaken. She knew he would be miserable sequestered from his liege, even if he was of far greater service to the crone. She sighed and nodded, brushing her hair from her face as she realized that, despite her best intentions, she was indeed quite tired. 

“Alright. Alright,” she agreed, managing a smile. “Let’s go get him.” Her smile broadened as she felt Sesshoumaru drape a heavy fur around her shoulders. He stood and took a step to face her.

“He will be happy to see you,” he said with the hint of a teasing tone on his tongue. She rolled her eyes but laughed lightly, knowing there was some truth in it. _Although he’d never admit it._ “Rest.”

She acquiesced, leaning back into her cushions and tugging the fur under her chin. Pleased with the short discussion she’d weaseled out of him she let her eyes close. She felt him watching her as she drifted off to sleep and tried to find comfort in his vigil, but could not shake feeling slightly unnerved. She dreamed of rabbits running in the snow.

\---

The horse whinnied unhappily as Sesshoumaru set the heavy chest across its back. It was a huge beast with eerie coal-black eyes; she supposed it was a youkai, as it had three sets too many legs, but she’d never seen anything like it before. It seemed eager to please Sesshoumaru and she could tell by the way that it shifted its weight on its hooves that it feared him. That didn’t stop it from making little noises of protest as it became more and more burdened by the camp’s accoutrements.

Rin felt guilty, knowing it was all for her comfort. She’d never seen Sesshoumaru eat, far less rest. It was one of his million mysteries that she felt ill-suited to sort out. All the same she was determined to strengthen the bond between them in their looming journey as much as the muscles in her withering leg. She even felt a spark of excitement at the thought of a reunion with the ill-tempered Jaken.

Sesshoumaru seemed to have noticed her high spirits and was swift to start them off on their trek. She woke to a pile of sweet rice ready for her to break her fast, and was quickly bundled in fine heavy robes. She’d shooed him away when he made to help her drape a sheath of silk around her head. She wasn’t used to being coddled and she reckoned that he wasn’t used to coddling; it suited neither of them.

She tied the ends of her head wrap under her chin, giving up the refined drape that it was meant to display to ensure it wouldn’t fall off as she toddled about on her crutch. She saw Sesshoumaru’s gaze linger for a moment longer as she did so and shot him an exasperated look, already accustomed to his version of teasing. _If he was looking for a cultured lady to accompany him on his travels he should have known better than to pick me_ , she mulled.

Sesshoumaru finished his work of burying the dead campfire in the snow and turned to leave without a moment’s fanfare. The horse trailed behind him obediently, leaving Rin to lurch after them. Sesshoumaru kept a slow and even pace; soon she was able to settle into an easy step beside him.

“Have you been traveling since your last visit to Kagome’s village?” Rin asked after a few oppressive moments of silence. He nodded in return, much to her bemusement. _Speak!_ she tried to will him.

“Where did you go?”

“Many places.”

“Beyond the sea?”

“Yes.”

“Did you like it there?”

“It was as any other place.”

“But surely it had different things. Different animals, different people.”

“Yes.”

She sighed despite herself. The patience she’d displayed in her conversations with Sesshoumaru in the past had been one of the many things she’d outgrown. She chewed at her lip in frustration, trying to muster up another question to ply him into speaking.

“What has pleased you, in the places you have been?” He asked. She was caught off guard by the question. He seemed sincere.

“Well…” she began, “there was a clearing in the woods near the village. It was so deep in the forest that you couldn’t hear a single sound from the houses or the farms.  I suppose something killed the trees that had grown there, maybe a fire. It was filled with tall grasses and wildflowers and the sun would stream in as it if was shining for that little spot alone. It always smelled different there, fresh and green. It was too far into the wood for other villagers to venture there, and Inuyasha and the rest found it too plain, I suppose. I always had it to myself. I liked it there.” She wondered if he knew what it was like to want to be alone, sometimes. Had he ever felt that panicked desire to run away from everything?

“I see.”

“I wanted to show it to you, when you visited, but I… I thought you’d find it foolish,” she admitted.

He said nothing, his only response the crunch of ice and snow under his feet. It seemed her assumption had been correct. She adjusted her grip on her crutch, ignoring the hot feeling on her cheeks.

They walked on in silence. He seemed to sense when the aches in her leg became near unbearable, stopping their pace to let her perch on downed trees and stumps to rest. When the sun began to set he led them away from the path into the heart of the woods, picking out a flat stretch of land to stop for the night. She helped him pull mats and sundries from the horse, which began to snuffle through the snow to look for something to chew. Sesshoumaru swiftly set a flame alight between them and stoked it to strength. She sat at one side, pulling the wrap from her head and brushing the hair away from her face. She spread a fur over the damp earth and nestled herself between a few large cushions, her pack between her legs as she searched for something to eat. She plucked out a spit of small dried mackerel and began to nibble at them, her mouth tingling at the tart briny taste.

He watched her through the flames. She felt the tiny hairs at the nape of her next stand on end as she caught his gaze. _What was he thinking about?_ He never looked away when she caught him staring at her; his face was always plain. She would have suspected that he was lost in thought and didn’t notice her there at all, if it hadn’t been for that glint in his eye that made her realize he was watching her every move. She was reminded of the old tomcat that lived in the rafters of the village granary. She remembered how he would watch the mice nibble on the grains, hidden by his statuesque stillness; once his eyes had locked on them she knew he was ready to snatch them up with his sharp teeth. Every time he’d purr as he crunched on their tiny bones. She looked down at her lap and twirled the stick that speared through the little fish, her appetite gone.

“What is it?” His voice queried over the crackling of the fire. She glanced up at him and cleared her throat, a cold feeling settling in her stomach.

“What are you doing?” She asked gracelessly. She saw one of his eyebrows raise in confusion; her heart thudded faster in her chest. “What I mean to say is… What do you think about, just sitting there?”

“What a curious question,” he replied coolly. “I don’t suppose I think about anything different than what is usually on my mind.” _I don’t believe you_ , she tried to reply.

“I see.” Something flashed across his face, another emotion she’d never seen him wear before.

“Get some rest. We have a good distance to travel tomorrow.” He stood, tossing another thick branch into the fire before walking off into the wood. Rin pulled a thick blanket around her shoulders and sighed. Is this how they would live, edging away from conversation? She tried to conjure up the feeling of his embrace, quieting her doubts as the farmer’s warning echoed through her head; _he’s not like us._

She had begun to drift off to sleep when the sound of boots crunching in the snow roused her again. She rubbed at her eyes, blinking blearily in the darkness to try to find a glimpse of his white robes. She was met instead by a pair of beady eyes.

“Yah!” She yelped, pushing a rough-skinned creature from her lap. It snarled back at her, dashing the back of her hand with a small club. The strike did little more than spark a fiery fury in her chest. She stood up, dislodging another creature from its perch at her side where it had been rifling through her things. Now fully awake she saw that the campsite was full of waist-high ogres; naked, ugly things each grasping primitive cudgels and clubs in their gnarled hands. Seeing her at full height sent them into a rage. They dropped the things they’d been in the process of nicking and swarmed towards her, each squawking a bird-like cry.

 Rin intuitively grabbed her crutch from the ground and wielded it before herself with both hands. She swung the crutch in a smooth circle as the first oni leapt towards her, satisfied by the crunch it made as it connected with the beast’s scaly flesh. She repeated the motion again and again, and was quickly hypnotized by the task at hand. She was oblivious to the bruises and cuts on her arms and legs made by the few brave oni that survived her first swing. The only thing that caught her eye was the blurred arc of the crook and the wet black eyes of the oni which glittered in the firelight like oily gems. She was startled awake again by a sharp crack as she brought the heel of the crutch down on the crown of the last oni’s head.

“Oh!” She breathed as the crutch splintered into two jagged pieces in her hands. The oni crumpled at her feet, its limbs twitching.

“Rin!” She looked up from the broken crutch to find Sesshoumaru standing at the edge of the campsite. He looked wild and winded, his hair unusually mussed; he’d been caught off-guard.

Rin looked down again and felt her body begin to tremble; not from fear or exhaustion, but from laughter. The crook of the crutch swung on its broken angle as she began to laugh aloud and then snapped, falling with a soft thud on the gory carpet of broken pot-belied ogres. _How strange_.

She heard Sesshoumaru’s bewildered laughter, a new and pleasant sound, rise to match her own. He picked his way over the fallen oni and approached her; she saw the wildness in his eyes flashing bold and bright. He plucked the crutch from her hands and threw it away.

“I was a—“ she began to relay an explanation for the scene but was stopped short when he moved a pace closer to her. She could feel the heat of his body a half-step away. He took hold of her right wrist, turning it to reveal a shallow cut at the underside of her forearm.  She breathed in sharply as he bowed down to bring the bloodied spot to his lips. The sharp points of his teeth flashed in the firelight as he ran his tongue along the cut.

Her fingers twitched at the sting. He pulled back, his eyes still half-lidded; she felt something tug at that nervous spot in her chest. _No._ She grabbed him by the collar and yanked him back. With the haze of adrenaline still heating her blood she let herself act on her impulses. She brought herself up on her toes and pulled him down towards her. Before he could respond she kissed him and, when he moved to steady her, took his bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down, hard, enough to draw his strange spicy blood into her mouth. _Enough,_ she wanted to yell out; _you are mine._

She broke the kiss and looked up at him, and was pleased to see his flushed face and untamed eyes. He ran the pad of his thumb across the wet spot along her lower lip, intrigued by the sight of his own blood on his finger and smeared along her narrow chin. He pressed the palm of his other hand between her breasts and, not too gently, pushed her down onto the tumbled furs.

Her breath hitched as he hooked one of his sharp nails into the fabric at her waist and slid it upwards, neatly paring the silk in two. The front of her robes fell open along a perfect line, baring her body from her navel to her throat to the cold air. She shuddered with pleasure as he ran his hands along the skin he had uncovered. Emboldened by his throaty sound of satisfaction, she grabbed a fistful of his kimono and tugged it open. She was thrilled to see the surprise of two new stripes along his hips, just peeking out from the waist of his belt, a daring mirror to the slashes of magenta under his eyes. Her hands moved towards where they pointed, searching for the knot that kept his hakama in place.

His mouth was near her throat now; she could feel his breath searing the sensitive skin below her ear. Her fingers fumbled with the slick cool fabric of his robes.

“No.”

At first she thought she’d misheard him; then it came again. Finally he pulled away, his open kimono fluttering in the cold space between them. She looked up at him, bewildered, instinctively crossing her arms across her chest.

“What?” She demanded, sitting up, her voice breathless. She felt her eyes water with frustration. _What was wrong with him?_

He crouched down in front of her in supplication. She saw that dangerous glint in his eye which told her he was fighting against his true instincts. She wished for once that he didn’t have such a firm grip over the hungry beast that lived within him.

“We cannot.”

“Why?” She challenged.  “This is what I want.” _I know you do too,_ she wanted to add, but couldn’t bring herself to say it.  

“I know.”

“Then let me! What is it?” She felt her aggression and her desire rushing to a heady boil. “What is it about me that disgusts you so much?” She gasped as he rushed forward and grabbed her by the wrists, wrenching them together at the center of her chest.

“How can you say that?” He snapped. Her defiance fluttered as she stared into his face and saw a fearful look half-hidden there. “How can you possibly believe what you say? Do you truly not understand?” His grip loosened and, after a moment, he released her hands. He stood quickly and stepped away from her, moving fast enough for the draft in his wake to muss her hair. She absentmindedly tucked a strand behind her ear, searching for the words to respond.

“If I…If you were to become…” He stumbled over his words miserably, “If you were to have my child, I am certain that it would kill you.”

“What?” She breathed, ignoring the heat of the blush blooming on her cheeks. “Sesshoumaru, your brother-“

“My bastard brother is my father’s son,” he snapped back, “but my mother is from a far more powerful breed. Even then it was a miracle that my father’s mistress survived, and it was only for a moment, before it brought her to her end. My blood would damn you too.” _And give you a mongrel child,_ she wanted to accuse, but was kept silent by his desperate and crestfallen tone.

She looked away, still tasting that same cursed blood on her tongue. Her mind raced as she glanced over the corpses of the pitiful oni strewn across the forest floor. She was reminded of an illustration from one of Kaede’s old scrolls which depicted a hellish scene of two horned ogres dancing over the splayed body of their victim, holding aloft a scribbled inkblot which was meant to represent the unlucky figure’s heart. She felt her own heart pounding against her breast as if it was squeezed between their pricking claws. _My blood would damn you too._ She remembered the ancient words from the scroll, dark and foreboding.

“Sesshoumaru…” She began, her body tingling with anticipation from what she planned to say next. She couldn’t bear to keep up this fruitless chase. Not like this.

“The hostage curse.” She could see the muscles knot in his chest as he reacted to her words; good. He knew what she meant. His face looked grey; he wanted to say no. She pursed her lips to try to persuade him but stopped herself when she caught sight of his eyes. They flashed in the dim twilight, hungry and mean. _You want this too,_ she called out silently to the beast within him. She saw his jaw tense in reply.

“I want to use the hostage curse.”

 


End file.
